Ten.Two Thousand, Five Hundred & Sixty-Seven
TGIF.
A later start, a slower pace, a little more light.
But, can I do it mysyelf?
I start heading down the hill when he calls to say they have a flat tire.
Catching up over decaf and egg-white scrambles.
It never feels like the right time.
The audacity of her still texting me after all of this.
Putting yourself in difficult situations and getting a different perspective.
Another shaky start with a convincing finish. 5-0.
“I’m just trying to get to my bed.”