Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Sixty-Four
This is a first. 73 degrees at 6 a.m.?
Certain pockets of the neighborhood carry a breeze, and it feels like stumbling upon gold when you find it.
Craving a chopped salad from Station.
Okay. Well. I have the umbrellas, but it’s too hot to carry the umbrellas up the hill. And it’s too hot to eat lunch outside anyway, so I guess I’ll just leave them there.
I run outside to meet the DoorDash-er and realize, once I’m walking through clusters of guests, that I’m still wearing pink Crocs.
He asked me if I heard those voices. I tell him it’s the ghosts.
But is it what I want?
We walk out into the 100-something-degree heat. I tell her how I told him that I’m just grateful that I really like the people I see when I do have to be here. And if I didn’t have them, it would be so much harder.
I’m going to need to get some tutoring.
“Given that, this is our humble invitation to set a magical moment of time aside for yourself next Spring, to come lay your blessings and burdens down on the altar of our Collective.”