Spring has this way of making everything feel possible again. The air is different. The light stays longer. You see people outside who looked half-hibernated a month ago. And there's this quiet pressure that comes with it. Like you're supposed to be blooming too. Growing something. Making progress that matches the season. Which is fine. Except most Tuesdays don't feel like a garden in full bloom. They feel like showing up and doing the work when nobody's watching.