Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & Three
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A little bit of morning light before the sky darkens again with fog.
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The sun looks weird and big and bright as we drive down the trail.
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When it’s just the two of us in the car, he has so much more to say. “Have a nice day,” he says quietly as he closes the door.
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Don’t forget the tacos. Don’t forget the tacos.
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First one in. Print more calendars. Drink hot tea. Answer emails.
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Can’t focus.
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I am disappointed and a little bit shocked, but also not surprised.
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I sit on the gym floor and stretch out my legs and tell the other coach about my day. I ask one of the girls how their day was. She asks me about mine. “I wish I could have switched with you.”
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I have to take a break because they are asking questions faster than I can answer and I have a headache. I send them to go get water while I regroup.
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I’ve got his cold. I know I do. I slide beneath the blankets and close my eyes.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred & One
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Oh no.
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Hungry but not sure what to death. Two glasses of juice instead - one orange, one apple. Hot water with lemon. Not the time of the year to be slacking on nutrition.
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So cold.
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Apple and banana and hot tea.
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I know more about workman’s comp than I ever thought I would. Some day, this will be useful information.
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“Remember the episode of ‘The Office’ where they talk about office safety?”
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I can do this, I can do this.
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Never enough.
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Is it really what I want?
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They mention that it’s so quiet. And it is when it’s just the four of us in there. More are coming. I promise.
Ten.One Thousand, Nine Hundred
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So lovely to have this light so early in the morning.
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Change of pants.
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Oh yeah. I forgot.
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The more I talk about it, the more nervous I get, and the more I try to talk myself down from the nerves.
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It is always such a waste.
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But before she gets off the call, she ribs me about my fantasy football loss.
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Thunder and lightening. The sound of tiny balls of ice pelting the rooftop. She opens the window just a little and lets in all the sound. We sit at our desks in the quiet, the lights off, a little mesmerized by it all.
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I am early because I want to watch. I want to watch because I want to learn.
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Not enough time.
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Before I let them go, I have us sit and talk, just the five of us. They have more to say than I thought they would.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Nine
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In the dream, I am hiding in a closet and whispering. I am in hiding but I am worried they will not believe me.
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Actual words exchanged.
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Might be the last time I have to scramble to iron his white button-down for a time.
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“Surprise, surprise / Couldn't find it in your eyes / But I'm sure it's written all over my face / Surprise, surprise / Never something I could hide / When I see we made it through another day”
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Is this “quiet quitting”? No. It’s just setting a better boundary for myself.
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At least I have her, though.
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But, then again, there is this.
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Some sense of stability would be nice.
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Last game. One touchdown.
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Almost full moon. Cold breezes. Hot hands in my pockets. The feeling of a light mist hitting my face. It’s finished.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Eight
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In the dream, we win our first game. I double over in disbelief.
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So, so cold.
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Sticking your head in the sand only makes things worse in the end.
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But this sunrise.
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Quickly eat the quiche before the office fills.
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Best if I just keep myself planted here even without the double screens and wireless mouse.
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How do we make this work?
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We start with 4 and end with 2.
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I sit in the gym after they leave and look up at the lights. The work is to move away from a state of self-pity, away from the fear of disappointing anyone, and remembering the core philosophies.
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I reread the plot of Hoosiers on Wikipedia.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Seven
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Coldest morning yet.
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I find it almost humorous how different the responses are to the same question when they are coming from different mouths.
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I am the first one in. Only quiet. I open the window to let in a little bit of fresh air. The vines that run up the hill are changing colors. It is a beautiful view. A beautiful morning.
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I sneak downstairs to have a more private conversation because a conversation must be had.
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I find the comment funny but also incredibly immature.
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If I could just have fewer interruptions in my day.
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I sit on the bench and staple the papers together. How many will there be? I am almost certain I already know my final count.
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Would this materially change the outcome of my season? No. If not, then what is the best decision for the team? How can I make this work?
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Less light but more work.
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I crawl beneath the weighted blanket and tell him that I feel like I’m being taken advantage of.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Six
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Kind of just want to curl back into bed.
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Probably should go ahead and have the coffee.
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I refuse to commit to it without a confirmed resolution.
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I keep talking and talking and my mouth gets drier and drier.
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I have no feelings either way.
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It’s just that there are so many interruptions.
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Today. Let’s see what happens today.
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He wasn’t kidding when he said she didn’t speak any English. We know enough to muddle through introductions. I find one of my players to translate for me. And then I make a mental note to learn a few phrases in Spanish.
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Small but mighty. I can’t really ask for more than that.
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Finally, a real dinner, all together at the table.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Five
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I hear her alarm go off. Good.
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I lose track of time and I haven’t checked in on her. We need to leave in 2 minutes, she is still in her pajamas, digging clothes out of the dryer. We are not even close to being ready.
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The hours are going by fast and I am not sure I am accomplishing anything.
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That did not go as planned.
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More and more yellow on the leaves.
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The thing is that we may talk a lot, but we do solve problems.
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Exactly what I predicted which is still not enough.
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Might be my least favorite day of the year.
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We decide to stay in. There is no need for us to walk around in the cold. Beer and wine and more cornbread.
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Tomorrow.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Four
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That is sleeping in. I need one more day of this.
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It shouldn’t be this hard.
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“If it’s filled with a bunch of 5-year-olds, I’m gonna leave.”
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We stop on the side of the road. He tells us that there’s supposed to be a garage sale here. Here at the house I’ve been oggling for two years.
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A old gravity-fed press in the barn. Quite possibly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.
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Giant protractor. An old picking bin. A small wine barrel. Wooden boxes. A set of 8 glasses that match some given to us years and years ago.
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He tells me that it’s already sold. I imagine how it will all be torn down. No respect for the history it holds.
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Shower.
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I intended to do more but I’m too tired.
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Tired and hungry.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Three
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Oh, shoot.
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First fire of the season. The sound and the smell of it.
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He is awfully agreeable this morning and that makes it all pretty easy.
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Last game.
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I keep moving toward the sun to stay warm but the sun is setting and there is no way to escape the chill.
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Turns out, if you call him and he answers he will usually do what you say. They get bold when the communication is via text.
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She stops to take a picture of the moon as we make our way back toward the car. The sky is pink and tan and powder blue and soft. Hazy from a prescribed burn on the other side of the mountains.
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Hot chili. Forgot the sugar in the cornbread.
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But really, who has a birthday party that goes this late into the night?
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Turning off the alarms.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Two
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Not how the day was supposed to go.
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“But here we are.”
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The tender colors of this morning’s sunrise.
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I drive up to the cafeteria, fill up three to-go cups - two with coffee and one half-full of oat milk.
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Cold.
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We really do talk a lot. It’s probably best that she doesn’t live here otherwise we’d never get anything done.
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Everything they are saying is everything I knew they would say and have already said. What is the compromise? How do we get to where we need to be with a sense of ease?
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Yes. I think this is going to be okay.
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The last home game of the year. The coldest game of the year. I will be happy to have my Friday nights back, but I will miss it.
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Proud.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-One
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Probably should keep the windows closed now.
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Leftover soup for breakfast. Hot lemon water.
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This morning’s sunrise and the softness of the sky and the way the leaves on the vines are changing.
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This meeting is never going to end.
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We made it happen. An escape.
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Bread and butter. Little gems with miso Ceasar dressing and shrimp. Chicken wings. Soft serve with pecan oil.
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Sometimes it’s just about having compassion. But it doesn’t excuse the behavior.
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I had fun. If this was the team, I’d be happy. Not ideal, but still happy. Good energy.
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Sometimes you just can’t capture it in a camera and so just soak it all in - all of the colors and the shapes on the horizon.
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I’ll believe it when I see it.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety
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Ready for mornings with the fireplace aglow.
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Bats.
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Thanksgiving is creeping up, which means Christmas is, too. I am not ready.
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Early. Just me and the quiet. Dark offices. Spilling my half-oat-milk-half-coffee all over my desk. Clickity clack of the keyboard.
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Soft.
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I want it to be better.
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Dare I say what is missing is feminine leadership?
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Window-down weather.
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I count eight today. I will be missing two or three tomorrow. Eight is not enough.
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She says more words to me in those five minutes than I heard all last season and I am shocked. Pleasantly surprised. Maybe everything will be okay afterall.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Eight
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Exactly what I expected.
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No, this won’t work.
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I keep looking at the calendar for the day and there is barely any room to breathe. The entire week is like this and I’m not happy about it.
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I am not entirely sure what to name the feeling, I just know I haven’t felt it in a long time. I wish I felt it more.
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I just say exactly what I want because otherwise, how else will I get it?
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Gratitudes for exactly this.
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I hear the nervousness in my voice. Dare I say it almost sounds like embarrassment?
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I keep trying to move slowly toward the door.
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Never enough time.
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I am nervous but trying not to show it.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Seven
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Better.
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Golden sunrise.
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The spider web in the corner is getting bigger.
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I can’t stop staring at the trees and the light and the green and I hear the woodpeckers knocking on the side of the house.
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“When We Were Birds”
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I should be doing less, but I seem to be doing more.
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The only way out will be if I vision my way toward a new path.
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I am quiet the whole way there and back. My mouth is closed but my mind is on hyperdrive. Sleepy but trying not to fall asleep and be rude.
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Another one bites the dust.
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Remember boundaries.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Six
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Almost time.
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I remove the dried flowers from my desk, stick them into the compost bin. Cool yet humid air. Quiet.
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Too much.
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All of a sudden I am questioning everything.
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What I want to do is not equal to what I should do.
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In the shade, it is incredibly comfortable. I sip slowly from the cup while we chat. I am overdressed for the current moment. I watch him catch a touchdown. I laugh a little. I am sad I have to go.
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Beautiful breeze.
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I hold the waxy candles against my sweater and then realize that’s a mistake.
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“What’s with the water today?”
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“Murder on the Orient Express” I wish I had these kind of sets when I was in high school.
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I needed this today.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Five
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Cold.
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Coffee, emails, cleaning.
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The time is slipping through my fingers.
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I talk to him while I wait for her to come to the office. We’re both excited for the season, the kids, the potential of everything.
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They jump out of the door and scare her. We let the girls play hooky to celebrate.
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Boundary setting.
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It always looks like you’re driving straight into the mountains, these blue-grey shadows on the horizon. It never gets old.
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My least favorite football field.
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Firey sunset.
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Two losses make for a long night.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Four
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This time of year when the sunrise slips through the little v of the valley.
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Not quite as early as I’d like to be.
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She asks me if I’m still not drinking coffee. I tell her no. I tell her that I’m trying to get better at managing my intake: more oat milk, start later, eat a better breakfast first.
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I ask who’s going to do the work. January isn’t that far away.
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Like a thousand cuts.
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I keep thinking I’m really clear about the task at hand but the questions persist.
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I pace in the parking lot, kicking up dust as my feet push the gravel around. I am honest with my thoughts. Clear and direct. I just want clarity. “I don’t care what it is, I just need to know what it is.”
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Somehow, we’ll have to manifest a path forward.
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The loudest game I’ve been to in quite some time. Cross-town rivalry at its finest.
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A later night than usual. Gott’s. Parents with salads and burgers and wine. Girls with fries and milkshakes.
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Gratitudes.
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Three
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I keep trying to work myself back into the dream.
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I know what it means.
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These quiet morning drives into town as the sun rises. I do love a winter sky.
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Too hot for pants. t
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Sometimes I over-communicate.
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Feeling a little trapped.
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If she’s on vacation, who am I going to talk to every day?
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Oh, boy. We’re in trouble.
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Exactly an hour.
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“It’s gone a bit wayward.”
Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Eighty-Two
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I welcome back the dark mornings.
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Today does feel like a coffee kind of day. I grab the white ceramic tumbler and set it on the counter.
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This morning the sky is clear. Just soft blue and hot pink streaks.
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He asks me when he can start practicing driving. I remind him that he will be starting in a parking lot first. Always a parking lot first.
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How do I have a kid almost old enough to drive?
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Superbloom.
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The balance between not caring but also doing what needs to be done.
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I walk into the line to get my order and the girl starts giggling. “Haven’t seen you open gyms. Where have you been?” I say with a smile. She giggles again and promises she will be there on Thursday. The benefit of being in a small town is that you can never hide. The downside of being in a small town is that you can never hide.
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I will never get the answer I want.
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Nevertheless, we plug along as best we can. Keep asking the right questions to get the job done.
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I tell him that I don’t want to be angry anymore.