Ten.Four Hundred & Forty-One
1. I forgot a card. And wrapping paper.
2. She wakes and we get to work on the waffles. Strawberries and fresh whipped cream. She asks for a dusting of powdered sugar on top. Happy Birthday.
3. I sit and drink one cup slowly. I put a spoonful of cream in it. Oh, this is good.
4. 10 am. Now to begin.
5. It doesn’t matter how much time I think I have, I always end up sweaty. The both of us do. We meet in the garage, sweaty and tired.
6. It’s hot in the sun but cool in the shade. Almost perfect.
7. I miss this street. The maples are already losing leaves. Leaves on fire. Sidewalk aflame.
8. But will they set?
9. Kitchen torch magic. Sugar crust. She taps her spoon against the sugar. “That’s a good shell,” she says. I think that’s something Mary Berry must have said.
10. A quiet but very good Birthday, I hope. She is so much of me which is both a blessing and a curse.
Ten.Four Hundred & Forty
1. Tight jaw.
2. Tomorrow is her birthday and I am unprepared. I usually am. But I am spectacularly behind in preparations. Not that there’s a lot, but I haven’t done anything.
3. I am always afraid I won’t get the right kind of gifts.
4. Still sore.
5. Back to the dentist in 2 weeks. Already dreading it.
6. One more rejection. I know that this is evidence of trying and perhaps evidence that I need to redirect my job search focus. Or maybe it means that I ought to think harder about whether or not I want to continue freelancing. Because, well, maybe it’d be worth it to be on my own terms.
7. It’s hot and yet I’m just a tad bit cold. Sweater and shorts.
8. Tomorrow from 10-10:45 am. She’s not happy about a showing on her birthday.
9. Marinate pork, mince cilantro, juice limes, slice pineapple. I take my time.
10. I complain that I didn’t have time for myself today. He says I should get used to it. He’s right.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Nine
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More fog. Thin color in the sky.
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I think I’ve put too much sugar in the granola.
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Sometimes they say things like, “ Do we have the antioxidant power?” and I remember that they’re incredibly spoiled and I can ignore any kind of mothering guilt.
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So much sun. The color of the light is changing.
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Two more baskets of laundry. Didn’t I just fold 4 baskets yesterday?
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I am glad that I was smart last week and froze some miso soup. But it is not enough and I am hungry. I have been hungry since returning from California. I hope this feeling passes soon. And I am in pain. Hungry and in pain.
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My arm is still sore from holding her baby. My arm is out of practice.
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Frozen chicken Kiev because it means I don’t have to do as much work for dinner tonight and because I know the three of them will gobble it all up.
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That sky. The saturated colors of sunset. The silhouettes of the trees. The twinkles of stars.
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Realizing that a piece of my heart still belongs in North Carolina. I remember how dramatic a hurricane would feel even though we sat in the middle of the state. I remember the morning the 40-ft pine tree fell on the roof of the house.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Eight
1. A night of strange dreams. Not very much sleep.
2. Runny nose. Allergies? Cold 2.0? Please don’t let it be a cold. I drink a big mug of hot lemon water.
3. I leave them early to get to the dentist. I’d rather stay at home.
4. When the editor of a magazine solicits work from you and it turns out that you once published her work so many years ago. Full circle. It’s amazing to me that so many people remember that effort.
5. Burger with a smoky tomato jam and grilled onions, glass of Rosso di Montalcino, root beer float cookies. And I still need something more.
6. For the first time in a while my mind fees light.
7. Breathe.
8. It seems like a sign.
9. I am overthinking it like I overthink so many other things and this is what holds me back.
10. Remember to find a slim collection of poetry for you to read.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Seven
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Fog over everything.
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The grasses out back are beginning to grow taller again and the drops of dew look like a dusting of white.
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I need 2.5 cups of sugar. Early morning run to Meijer so that I can make these muffins.
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A double batch of blueberry muffins. This recipe never fails. I accidentally melted the butter and the mixture looks slightly off.
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Tuesdays are my favorite days. Back with them again.
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Mimosas and conversation and bacon and pineapple and coffee. A sleeping baby in my arms.
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Shaky from too much caffeine. I make the teriyaki sauce and cut up the chicken for tonight’s dinner. I really ought to get to the store tomorrow.
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I promise to play war with him after he takes his shower. It’s the only card game I really know how to play these days.
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I tell him that I’d just like to be gone before Halloween. Before the cold really sets in.
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A sliver of moon in a watercolor sky. This dream is bigger than me.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Six
1. 4:30 wake-up so that I can see him off.
2. As I head downstairs I hear the girl's voice. I just hope she goes back to sleep after he leaves. I'm glad he's down with the idea of moving west at some point if we figure out a way to make it financially feasible. I'll continue to hold the vision.
3. I know that he thinks I'm silly for thinking that we'll ever have enough to create the "compound" I've been dreaming of. But, lately, my dreams have been coming true and so I can only continue to believe that there's a place out there waiting for me where I'll be able to live and work on my own land.
4. But why do they make me yell in the mornings?
5. Morning pages on the front porch with a big mug of chamomile. Monarchs keep floating by. It’s quiet.
6. My mind and body are tired. I don’t usually feel this kind of fatigue when I come back. Maybe it’s because I’ve been up since 4 in the morning.
7. How I fall into 4 numbers on the Enneagram is beyond me. But it makes sense that I’m always confused.
8. Pizza.
9. He walks in and tells me he thought I was Lauren Underwood at first. What pops into my mind is House of Cards. Underwood. Underwood. Oh. She’s a black woman running for Congress. I giggle to myself. He doesn’t mean to be rude, but it’s sometimes insulting when white people tell you that you look like another black person (whom they actually don’t even know), no matter how accomplished that other black person might be.
10. Early to bed.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Five
1. Not enough places here open up before 8. But we find a diner in Pleasanton that opens at 7.
2. This trip felt too short. Only two full days. I needed a third. Three is a lucky number.
3. More golden hills and turkey vultures overhead. Crepe Myrtles and succulents and grass and Italian Cypress trees.
4. My first time at the Oakland airport. It feels so much smaller than SFO. It's much easier to navigate. I grab the latest Saveur, Sunset, and the Beyonce Vogue. Lots of water. Snacks. Playing cards for the boys and coin purse for the girl. We joke that she will fill it with lots of other things like her littlest pet shop toys and shopkins.
5. I am sad to leave. But I have more clarity about where I think I'd like for us to live. And where and what kind of work I might like to do.
6. I can see the potential.
7. Red curly hair and a bag that says California Wines. She's dressed in long skirt, a fitted shirt with sweater tied around her neck. I tell him to peek and see if he can read her boarding pass.
8. It is her. I introduce myself and gush over how many times I've read her book and how great it is and she asks me what I'm interested in with regard to wine—at least I think that's what she's asking me—and I say something about as far as drinking, old world, but I love viticulture and wine-making. That in another life I'd have been a wine maker or a grape grower but now I think I'm interested in the education side and not the service/hospitality side. I think what I'm saying makes sense but I can also feel my nerves at the corner of my mouth. I feel like my voice is shaking and I'm slightly embarrassed and hope I didn't come off as too odd.
9. The man next to me in the exit row is also in the business. Works for Dana Estates and Davis Estates. I now have new places to visit next time I'm in Napa.
10. We'll be home in time for dinner. Fields of corn and soybean. I'm ready to trade them in for the golden hills studded with oaks.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Four
1. I’m ready for coffee.
2. We decide to eat breakfast in Danville before heading to San Ramon. A place called Sideboard tucked into a very quaint building on a very quaint street and I understand what everyone meant when they said that Danville is “very” nice.
3. Mismatched silverware in a drawer. Yes, please.
4. I like the look of San Ramon more than I thought I would.
5. And then we make our way down to Pleasanton which is just as pretty. This will be a tough decision when the day comes.
6. The heat of the sun on the belly. The way the hillsides glow gold. The blueness of the sky.
7. They went to see The Meg.
8. By far the most educational wine tour and tasting I’ve ever done.
9. This is the hipster spot. She tells us that it’s a little more country here but still nice. How much country can I do?
10. But I can see myself bringing the kids to Loard’s on a Saturday afternoon. Or to Donut Wheel for a hot glazed donut.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Three
1. Nerves and excitement in the dappled sunlight.
2. Belgian waffle with whipped cream and strawberries. I pull a Leslie Knope and ask for another serving of whipped cream. Coffee in a diner mug.
3. At least I know I am employable.
4. I stop and grab some flowers from Trader Joe’s. She asks me if I’m visiting. I get to say, “yes! But I’m moving here soon!”
5. I know where I am.
6. Her and her belly and mint tea in the most perfect mug.
7. We’re not going to regret it.
8. The evening winds are beginning to blow and they furious and cool. I watch the leaves shake and fall.
9. Of course our server was born and raised here and he loves it. He suggests Panama Bay Coffee in downtown Livermore.
10. It’s bustling tonight. The guys at the coffee shop make us lattes and give us suggestions on lunch for the next day. And before we leave they welcome us to the neighborhood.
10.1 A 24-hour donut shop. We split a hot glazed donut and sit on a park bench. Eyes full.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Two
1. Gentle rain.
2. I warm up the leftover miso soup for breakfast and giggle at the lamb comment.
3. One shortish to-do list and this feels good.
4. The kids keep asking questions. They are so excited to see their grandfather. I wonder at what age the excitement will go away. Maybe it never will. I hope it never does.
5. Five baskets of laundry. I always run out of time on travel days. 3:30 arrived much more quickly than I thought it would. The concept of time is so crazy. No one minute is ever the same.
6. I'm going home.
7. When we pick him up at baggage claim the first thing I notice is the large knee brace. I am wondering what happened. I am imagining him falling down those spiral stairs in his home. I am thinking about how they aren't that old but maybe it's time to start really talking about downsizing and one-story living because we are already so far away and we're going even further. I am already beginning to think about how to get them to California to be with us.
8. I walk and walk and walk up until the very last minute because 4.5 hours is a really long time to sit.
9. I open my eyes and see all the stars. Front-row tickets to galaxy gazing.
10. In-N-Out at 1 am. I am home.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-Two
1. Gentle rain.
2. I warm up the leftover miso soup for breakfast and giggle at the lamb comment.
3. One shortish to-do list and this feels good.
4. The kids keep asking questions. They are so excited to see their grandfather. I wonder at what age the excitement will go away. Maybe it never will. I hope it never does.
5. Five baskets of laundry. I always run out of time on travel days. 3:30 arrived much more quickly than I thought it would. The concept of time is so crazy. No one minute is ever the same.
6. I'm going home.
7. When we pick him up at baggage claim the first thing I notice is the large knee brace. I am wondering what happened. I am imagining him falling down those spiral stairs in his home. I am thinking about how they aren't that old but maybe it's time to start really talking about downsizing and one-story living because we are already so far away and we're going even further. I am already beginning to think about how to get them to California to be with us.
8. I walk and walk and walk up until the very last minute because 4.5 hours is a really long time to sit.
9. I open my eyes and see all the stars. Front-row tickets to galaxy gazing.
10. In-N-Out at 1 am. I am home.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty-One
1. The colors of the sky this morning. There's enough break in the clouds to get all the color. I'm looking forward to the changing of the skies.
2. Today. Must get through today.
3. The kitchen is a disaster. I've made her miso soup. I'm eating the leftover pho for breakfast. The older two decide to take the miso soup to school for lunch. I'm trying to explain what tofu is.
4. 6:15-7:15.
5. I break for lunch and short rest. Just need to get through today. Time is slipping through the cracks of my fingers. I had hoped to be done by now.
6. I'm working in the office and watch a white car drive slowly in front of the house. I try to sink down into the chair. Hopefully the tall bushes have hidden me. My hair is wild, the desk is a mess. One of the things I like about him being gone is that I get to have a proper office. It's airy and bright and the same level as the food and water.
7. I tell them that I need their help when we get home because this is the first time I have to do the whole thing by myself. I'm going to need every bit of the two hours to get everything ready. They vote Olive Garden for dinner.
8. There's a car in the driveway that I don't recognize. One of the things about living in a small neighborhood is that you get to know the cars that make their way up and down the street. "What time is it?!" "5:38!" I begin to tear up a little at the unfairness of it. Surely they can see me through the blinds vacuuming as fast as I can.
9. They're still there. Then they aren't.
10. I open the garage door and two cars and two men are sitting at the curb across the street. I pull my visor down so that they can't see my sweaty face. 6:08. For some reason this feels a bit like an invasion.
10.1 She's hunched over the table and both of her fingers are crossed and she says, "I have a really good feeling about this one." My eyes are full again.
10.2 None of the kids at school have ever heard of tofu. Some thought it was lamb. "Lamb?!" "Because sheep are white!" The girl and I laugh until we cry. Soup and salad and bread sticks. A glass of surprisingly good Chianti. Hot decaf while they eat dessert. I am full and so tired but full. They thank me for bringing them here and for also getting dessert. I'm grateful for them and for the laughter. It's been too long since we really laughed together.
10.3 One more day.
Ten.Four Hundred & Thirty
1. My alarm hasn't gone off and I can tell it's early because of the dark bits of sky I can see through the slats in the blinds. Nerves. I get up anyway.
2. Wet windows. I don't know what the weather will be like today but I think more rain is coming.
3. A sink full of dirty dishes is my least favorite way to start the day. I prepare the potatoes for our breakfast and then try my best to unload the dishwasher without clinking the class. This is always so much harder to do when you're really trying.
4. Focused.
5. He’s leaving today. I am a little sad. I sometimes forget how used I am to him being here until he leaves. But it means a more productive day.
6. Dad talks me through changes to make to my resumé and portfolio. They make sense. He reminds me that people have paid me to do this work. I need to talk more about it. He even brings up Blackberry. I didn’t even know he remembered.
7. Fortunate. 3 cranes in the sky. Good omens.
8. Just enough time to clean the kitchen and eat some cherries before pick up. I finally feel like I can breathe.
9. One glass of Riesling left.
10. Tomorrow and then the next day. One day at a time.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Nine
1. Headache. Sinus + Stress.
2. Bacon and potatoes and smoothie. Lots of water.
3. I'll try to get this work done from bed.
4. There they are. The two of them. The fawn reaches their head up to nibble on the leaves from the lower branches of the trees. Seeing them always makes me smile.
5. Lots of water and bed. Computer and notebooks beside me. There is much to be done and I'm trying to do it from here. It seems to be the best place to handle not only the work but the waves of nausea that won't stop knocking.
6. This little kid, though. His face and his smile and the way he talks. Always so animated. Always so loving. When he's not whining like a 3-year old, he's the funniest and charming 7-year old. Sometimes my biggest challenge. But the hardest things are always worth it.
7. It's Monday? I leave in 3 days.
8. We decided to make pho for dinner instead of the greek salad with chicken. The smell of cinnamon sticks and star anise and coriander and clove, ginger and chicken broth and soy—all of it soothing.
9. I did promise cupcakes. I try a recipe from the cookbook I inherited from my husband's aunt. It's filled with old-school recipes and instructions on how to carve fruit into animals. I decide on a recipe for a plain white cake. The batter is light and fluffy. I try a new-to-me frosting that ends up looking more like a glaze. But no one will complain about eating a soft butterscotch.
10. I work some more until I can't.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Eight
1. I'm late to the smoothie trend.
2. Still another queasy morning. I'm beginning to think it wasn't just the coffee but something else. Back-to-school germs. I'm usually more immune. Also, probably stress.
3. It's always so much quieter with on less child.
4. Ginger and lemon tea to settle the stomach. Back to bed. More British Baking Show. Unlike most American competitions, the contestants are kind to one another, congenial. It's interesting to see the difference in culture.
5. Crock-pot chicken tacos.
6. Hornworms on the tomato plants. Little white larvae on their backs.
7. I keep forgetting that I leave in only 4 days. I am feel no feelings about it other than it will be neat to explore a different wine country and a different part of the state. And maybe it will re-inspire me as we continue with this process. I'll remember just exactly what kind of light waits at the end of the tunnel.
8. My tacos taste dry. I forgot the chopped tomatoes.
9. The two of us ride our bikes around the neighborhood after dinner. I like this. The kids opt to stay home, for whatever reason. It smells like grilling. The air is quiet. There's hardly any noise. A peaceful Sunday suburban evening.
10. So much to do tomorrow.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Seven
1. Dark skies but no rain yet.
2. The to-do list is short. No showings today yet, one kid to drop off for a sleepover, pick-up contacts, make dinner.
3. She gives me a punch card and I kind of want to say, "no, I don't need one, I'm moving soon," but the reality is that it's quite possible I'll be here longer than I want to be, longer than any of us have anticipated (we've already been here longer than we anticipated) and so it's quite possible that I will return enough time for a free dozen. And that will be okay.
4. I drink the coffee. And then I drink some more coffee. With the caramel donut, it's absolutely superb.
5. I bring the coffee to bed and turn on the baking show and sit in the grayness of the morning.
6. I drink some more coffee while we catch up. I decide it's time for me to go when the test tube and sticks of butter come out.
7. My brother and I talk for almost 2 hours.
8. All the coffee has made me a little queasy.
9. I talk to Dad for almost an hour. I ought to make more of a point in calling. Surprise, surprise: I'm not the best at interpersonal communication. I think a lot of things that I never end up speaking. I've always said that my lesson in this life was to learn how to use my voice. And really, that's not just about speaking up for or out against, but it's also about a way of deepening my relationships with self and others.
10. The yellowing of the light; away from the gold of summer and toward the paler shades of fall.
10. 1 No coffee for me tomorrow.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Six
1. I didn't sleep well at all. Up every few hours. Dreams and a kid who kept coming into the room. Worries about not being able to fall back asleep again and get enough rest.
2. Moths on window screens that look like shadowy hearts.
3. I leave the phone at home. Untethered. Listening to nothing but myself and my own thoughts.
4. But I wish I did have my phone so I could identify some of these plants. I think about how in the past I would have just sketched a picture of it in a journal and then cross-referenced it at home with some sort of book on botanicals. I could still do that.
5. I am only slightly sweaty from the ride but the air inside is crisp and cool. More water and a mug of chamomile.
6. Monarch floating by in front of the alcove.
7. Laundry and "A Haunting." I can't wait for the Halloween movies to be on. It's one of my favorite times of the year. Sometimes I like to scare myself.
8. I leave early enough to buy me some reading time in the car line. Windows down. Sun in my lap.
9. He asks me what I've been thinking about all day and I know that it's none of what he wanted me to be thinking about. He wants me to say that I've been thinking about what kind of job I'm going to apply for, or that I'm applying for jobs. What I've really been thinking about is: Whether or not I'm going to continue to be on social media; What are my reasons for being in the digital space?; What do I gain from these virtual connections and what am I giving through them?; Why has it been so hard for me to just settle into one thing and just work on doing and being that?
10. I don't know what to do.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Five
1. Still waking up late from this cold. What happened to 4:30 Alisha?
2. I fry up a few leftover pieces of bacon and a some eggs and sit down to eat. I am craving coffee but we are out. Which is actually good because I think I should continue to stay off the caffeine for awhile. At least until my adrenals have been given enough of a rest.
3. Remember to look up coffee alternatives.
4. In 6 months none of this will matter.
5. I can sense it.
6. All the lights are on and the floors have been mopped and vacuumed and fliers are out and the Yo-Yo Ma station is playing through the Bluetooth speakers.
7. We linger on the patio. I eat meatloaf and french fries, Petite Ruche from M. Chapoutier, and two cups of decaf coffee. I hear bits and pieces of the conversations from the table around us: it's someone's birthday; there's one woman in a group of twelve or thirteen men and I wonder if she's developed that way of talking just to fit in—to be taken more seriously; two sets of moms and daughters who've met up over lunch hour to catch up on things.
8. Whenever there's a showing they want to know if that person has bought the house. They are always so disappointed when we say that we don't know or won't know for a few days at least. They are just as ready as we are. They don't like this hanging over their head any more than we do.
9. The three of us watching The Great British Baking Show, oooh-ing and ahhh-ing over their creations. We try to pronounce the french words for things.
10. I think of her post where she says she'll be off of social media for 3 months. It's something I'm interested in trying too. What would a life without social media look like? I reckon there's more time and more creative inspiration and less stress and headaches. Fall is coming and the season of cutting away will soon begin.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Four
1. Slow morning with a surprise.
2. The wetness of everything. I am craving a long walk in the light rain.
3. The surprise is that they get to skip school so that we can go to a Cubs game. It will be their first and probably last visit to Wrigley Field. It’s a cloudy day but who doesn’t love to play hooky.
4. Tomorrow from 12:15-1:15. Plenty of time for me to get a little bit of work done before all the cleaning has to be done.
5. There’s no way for me to respond to each one. I just read them and take them in. I am just a witness.
6. This is smart. Rent out your garage on game day and make a few extra dollars.
7. Popcorn and a draft beer. The seats are better than I expected. Everyone is happy. The oldest says that this might be the best day of his life.
8. I could fall asleep though if I wasn’t so cold.
9. Pizza for dinner, cold medicine for dessert.
10. Almost.
Ten.Four Hundred & Twenty-Three
1. Slightly better than yesterday. The cold has moved from the head and down into the chest which is slightly more preferable. I can hold my head up straight but my body still aches.
2. Showing at 10:45.
3. He takes them to school while I slowly make my way through the bathrooms, clean the counter tops, polish the appliances, mop the floors that need mopping. He comes back and does all the vacuuming. I'm ready to be done with this.
4. But 2 showings in 3 days feels good. It feels like another burst of momentum.
5. He drives and I lean my head back and close my eyes. I slept for almost 13 hours and I'm still tired. It's also day 2 of no coffee.
6. Two hours in the car, mostly quiet, mostly me with my eyes closed or me with my eyes open, staring out the window, thinking about cloud formations and how crazy it is that we humans willingly get into large chunks of metal that hurl toward one another.
7. The upside to showings is a clean home. Who doesn't like returning to a clean home. The downside is that children usually ruin it rather quickly.
8. He tells me that he realizes that my anger is not anger but really a fear. And he says that his job is to help me move past the fear. Because I'll never reach my dreams if I don't do it. He says I like being comfortable. That a farm hand is a great job but that I'm reaching too low. He's not wrong. But also, working on a farm at The French Laundry is no small deal either.
9. I ask my community what they're afraid of. The answers are varied. Many are similar to my own. This is just what it means to be human.
10. Even though I've taken the nighttime medicine, I can't seem to fall asleep. My head is filled with visions of farms and animals and drafts of emails I am supposed to send in the morning. I close my eyes and listen to the rain.