Ten.Two Thousand, Seven Hundred & Twenty-Five
Worth it.
Letting go.
I look at myself in the mirror and laugh. I look like a 40-year-old suburban mom from the South.
How is it only Tuesday? It feels like we’ve already lived a full week.
I’ve gotta stop wearing this jacket. Too many compliments. Too many questions to dodge. I gotta quit so I can wear it more freely.
This whole week feels like a Sunday full of scaries.
Afternoon walk with the crew. The heat is mild, and the breeze is gentle. The weather is so nice that we walk all the way to the end of the drive before turning around. The birds have gotten most of the good blackberries. The ones we pick taste dusty.
I print a lot of paper, but sometimes my eyes just need a break from the screen.
Weeknight chicken tagine. We have a conversation about quitting. About a team-first mentality. About the optics and the yet-to-be-known repercussions of doing so. About regret. About less, but better.
Usually he plays ocean sounds, but tonight I choose rain.