Ten.Two Thousand, One Hundred & Seventy-Three
More sleep.
Game day. I stack binders and notebooks onto the bed, check and recheck the clipboard to make sure I have what I need.
I hear someone coming into my office. He tells me he was at Sunshine getting a coffee, and the checker said, “Hey, your wife’s on the front page.” He hands me the newspaper and I see my face in a small square box. Why just my face?
When you can cancel an unnecessary meeting that no one wants to attend anyway.
I better get down there.
A Crazy-maker, remember?
The one thing that does happen is that your colleagues will rally around you even when you never feel like you have the support from where it should truly come.
“I’m an OG 3.” I turn around and look at her. “I knew you had it in you.” They all laugh.
She sits down in the chair beside me while I arrange all my things and tells me she never realized how much work I do to prepare for things like this. The children see everything.
36-3.
He texts me just the word “win.”
