Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty-Three
Wait. I have to actually get up now.
Stuffing the backpack cooler with all of the snacks I can think of.
One car full of sleepy teenage girls. Watching the sun spill its light on the vines.
She asks for donuts, I offer granola.
He asks me why we’re doing this when we’re not ready. I don’t know.
I keep thinking there is more that I should be doing, but enough work has been done for today. And so, really, I should just be here.
Expanded warnings.
Still have four more hours to go. But there’s really nowhere else I’d rather be.
This Chipotle queso is gas.
For a car full of girls, I sure am hearing “bruh” a lot.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty-Two
I managed to sleep.
I see blue sky, which means the smoke is blowing away from us, and that’s a good thing.
If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. And we’re not ready.
This is not the Friday I wanted for myself.
So hot.
Making notes for what next year will look like with us at the helm. Thank goodness she has spreadsheets.
TGIF.
Are we going to break the seal?
His little hands in those pink gloves catch an interception.
I can hear him talking outside of the bathroom; he is hoarse from yelling, but he is excited.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty-One
Don’t want to. But need to.
These shorter days are really messing up my morning.
He texts to say that he forgot his backpack.
There’s always a point in the day during these shoots where you just can’t think anymore, so no idea sounds good, and every idea sounds good. And there’s never enough time.
Still better than Monday, though.
The says 106 degrees.
She says there’s a fire somewhere in Calistoga.
So, so, orange. Fiery orange.
Football BBQ. New faces, old faces. He says something about my pink Crocs. “I already know everyone here, and there’s no one I need to impress.”
But when this happens, it’s hard to convince yourself that it’s safe to sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirty
Tom the turkey is back.
I hear the screechy sounds of the trash truck in the distance. Do I run outside in my pajamas again to make sure he took the cans out? No. Not today.
A much slower walk. Watching the sky slowly burn itself awake. “Death by Meeting” in the ears.
I promised myself no more coffee, but here I am, back at the pot again.
Looking forward to an evening with nothing extra.
Compressed melon with Thai basil, jamón, and olive oil.
Sitting in silence. Who is
“Are you glad you came?”
A bottle of Fleurie as the day turns to night. Tea light candles and a breeze.
But it’s only Wednesday.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Nine
No more time to wait for the light.
Feeling the difference in my muscles between yesterday’s warm walk and today’s cold walk.
Someone is walking toward me, but I can’t tell who they are. They wave. He has a towel around his neck, so he must be walking down to the fitness center. I should probably wear my contacts on these walks.
Four cups of coffee and no patience left.
Sometimes it’s the chats on the side that get you through.
Everyone is doing the best they can with what they have.
Very much ready for that glass of rosé.
I had forgotten how hot this gym is this time of year.
I catch myself looking at the little things: body language, facial expressions, energy levels. It’s already time.
But I’ve been trying to work on myself for a very long time.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Eight
Can’t miss the sunrise.
I swing my legs over the bed, but then hear his footsteps.
Novelty combined with the familiar. Finding the inside smile.
Answered prayers.
The three of them in their usual places. The three of them for the last time on a first day. The three of them driving away.
And that’s it. The beginning of the end.
They are indeed uniforms. Here we go.
Second thoughts.
He says he complimented him on his shirt. He looked too cool.
Like old times.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Seven
The light falling through the windows is strong and bright.
The whole cup of coffee spilling in the foyer is the sign I needed to quit.
That grandma is taking her two-year-old grandson with her into the cigarette depot.
Letting go of the sense of lost time.
It’s the way his shy smile creeps into the corners of his mouth.
Fast fingers.
Law Roach was so the right choice.
Tomorrow is the day.
Can’t unsee it.
Just one more bowl.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Six
Oh, wait. Those are Eastern Standard Time.
What are your non-negotiables?
Relationship. Transformation. Challenge. Presence. Service. Education. Accomplishment. Laughter. Laughter.
And that’s also why you do things like these: to feel renewed and excited for what’s to come.
Team first.
I mean, it’s only thirty more minutes for a hundred more options.
He looks so tall and cool with the short shirt, big jeans, and the hair. He’s got the aura.
He’s not much further behind.
“So many civilians out today.”
Tomorrow.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Five
The soft glow of sunrise.
I hear a noise behind me and see my fox friend scurrying up the rocks.
I didn’t expect to see her here, but it seems like she wants to talk, so we talk and talk and talk. Ironically, I had just opened an envelope that had her picture in it. I should frame it.
Giving space.
Camarones. No tortillas.
Yep. I really miss our morning talks.
The first submission. It makes me giggle because I can hear her voice and imagine her saying it out loud. This is going to be so good.
Massican Pinot Grigio. Fried squash blossoms with ricotta. Oysters. Sourdough bread.
So amazing here / 'Cause there's beauty in the breakdown
“Why did you do legs when you already went on a hike?”
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-Three
Feel it all.
I think about their baby faces and the bits of life that matter the most.
I turn off the audiobook and just listen to the sounds around me. No birds yet, but I hear the sound of the electric leaf blowers cleaning up the patio and tennis courts.
Lift heavy.
This hug.
“Hi,” he says. “Our last one!” we say.
He sends a picture of the turkey walking around on the back deck. How? Why?
I kept thinking the meeting was at 12.
Here I go, ruining another idea again.
We gotta eat the rest of this cobbler.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five hundred & Twenty-Two
Dark, dark, dark.
But also feeling light.
Footsteps on the roof.
Another one bites the dust.
Should have taken that walk.
One of those days when you find it hard to focus on any one thing because all the other things are pulling at all the fibers.
Coming home to a quiet house.
How, exactly, amd I going to make this work?
It’s volleyball season which means it’s also pre-game-Clif-Family-patio season.
No more babies.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty-One
So dark.
Up before the turkey. Full moon hangover. The upside of the darkness is the extra quiet—and the cooler temp.
Not today.
How can I experience a little bit of the future right now?
This time, the box contains peaches. A cobbler must happen.
I walk away from the screen and head outside. Then I decide I should lay in the hammock for a brain break. I stare at the sky and just breathe.
Productive.
I ask him how he’s doing, and he lets out a big sigh and says it hasn’t been great. “Your Monday has been Monday-ing?” I say. He pauses before saying, “It is.”
He says he needs something in his small apartment because he sits so much more now with this new job.
Rewatching Great British Baking Show for about the 100th time.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Twenty
Quiet.
Tight muscles.
Rectangles of light on the kitchen floor. The only two were awake.
I just had three mugs of coffee, and I’m still yawning. That’s my cue that it’s time to quit again.
One more paper. One more discussion question. One more quiz. But this paper, though.
Just do the right thing and hope for the best.
I take a break to go pick up the grocery order. The sky is hazy and hot. I try to see each vine as we whish down the trail. Green shade cloth. White shade cloth. Fallow plots. Densely planted rows.
Two squares of chocolate with sea salt and almonds.
We’re only going up from here.
Draft done.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Nineteen
2:38 a.m. Hot.
The way the morning light is slipping through the wooden slats. You can tell by the color that it’s going to be warm.
I’m not the only one who just has a heap of shoes by the door.
Walks like these.
I was hoping the door would be at the back of the room, and no one could see me sneak in late.
“What inspires you to write?” “What stops you from writing?” In our small group of women, the answer is, unsurprisingly, life.
I ask her why she thinks there aren’t more young people here. We have too many things to do.
Spring Baking Championship.
Never not thinking about something I could or should be doing instead of resting.
Surrender.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Eighteen
Finally. Friday.
Where’s my fox friend?
Always keeping me from being great.
Write back to center.
She exits the bathroom stall and bypasses the sink, following me out the door. I mean. She saw me see her not wash her hands. I watch her walk through another door. Dear God, I hope that’s not the kitchen. But a person who wears a mask washes their hands, right? Right?
I’m never coming back here.
The distance between.
How is he already a 32 waist?
I mean. I know she thumbs-upped the text, but I haven’t actually seen her with my eyes.
Chicken and chimichurri.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Seventeen
No turkey. No squawking jays.
I turn the corner and see my friend the fox. I stop and take its picture. We stare at each other for a few minutes. I keep on walking. It turns its head in my direction, scampers down the rocks, and begins to follow me.
“It means you lose by not trying to play full out, by not trying to do the impossible—whatever that is for you.” - The Art of Impossible
What is different? What has changed?
More “yeses.”
Or, instead, you could be grateful.
Still so very loud in here.
I look down and realize it says, “Felicia.” That’s a first.
She wants a jar of pickles. I need dishwasher detergent. I’m just glad she doesn’t ask to drive the truck.
And miles to go before sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixteen
I try to ignore the turkey but he/she is so loud. Incessant. Aggressive. I am clearly supposed to get up and out of bed this morning.
Bag on my left elbow, coffee cup in my left hand, right hand with a phone up to my ear. I miss a step or make a misstep or something, and fall on my hands and knees on the stone. The housekeeper rushes over to ask me if I’m okay. The liquid I feel dripping down my finger is not blood, but coffee. I am amazed that I’m not more hurt than I am. Hikes + weight lifting = not breaking a bone today.
AG1.
I tell her it’s not my fault. I always have my hands full. Really, should always have a hand on the railing.
So many questions.
Already so warm.
I thought I’d feel it tomorrow, but I’m feeling it today.
I hear a voice over a loudspeaker and remember that it’s the day of the Forbes celebration. I consider walking down onto the greens and sneaking in, but talk myself out of it.
It’s already started.
Too hot to sleep.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fifteen
Squawking jay serenade.
No feathers today.
Then he adds the power moves, and I feel the body reacting to this new movement. Electric.
Finally catching up.
My mind feels scattered. I sit and try to write myself back to center.
They always think you’re crazy until you do it.
Two Tootsie Roll pops to try to keep me from crawling underneath my desk and taking a nap.
She’s looking backward like the car is going to start moving on her own.
Peach pick up at Crane Park. I see a few familiar faces. It’s a whole culture, this bocce thing.
Is it really only Tuesday?
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Fourteen
I know if I just start moving, I’ll be okay.
Two red-tailed hawk feathers. So, the Red Tail Hawk symbolizes precision and vision, including psychic awareness.
Why does it sound so loud?
I realize that it’s set to 65 degrees and on “fan,” so I switch it to auto. But it’s still too loud, so I kick it up to 67.
What can we do to be sure we keep the right kind of people
A handful of wint-o-green mints and a walk. I call her and tell her she should bring the poems back.
When you realize, that in spite of all things, you have come quite far.
At least they aren’t sociopaths. Yeah, it could be better, but it could also be so much worse.
A little too late to be asking for dessert.
The 2-minute version of the to-do.
Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Thirteen
Here come the birds.
Shorts and a sweater and the Yosemite camping mug.
Like a layer of cotton packed on top of the trees.
We stop on the side of the road and stand in silence as we look out over the mountainside. You can hear the sounds of the cars as they whip around the curves.
I want this feeling to stretch through the day.
Wishing for one more piece of key lime pie.
Will this even work?
These are the things you learn only when people die.
Roasted chicken, fresh veggies, and garlic bread. In a hungry phase.
Two weeks.