Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Nine
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Didn’t I just say that I try not to sleep in? But I can feel a cold coming and so I should take the extra sleep.
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Dressed. Scones. Cinnamon. I think they’ll be okay with no sugar on top.
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Popping popcorn.
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But the sea salt and black pepper might be my most favorite.
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Slow, slow, slow. I slam the computer shut. I’m no better than the tween with the “lagging” on xbox.
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Nap. I shouldn’t nap. But I need a nap.
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He put on jeans without me even having to ask. And he looks so good in his jeans. So tall. So old. Too old.
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Syrah and tri tip. Some kind of cheesy bread that is too good to be just a side.
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Tom Haverford.
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Ant.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Eight
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That red light. It must not be Christmas lights. Must be something else.
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Plaid. Seems appropriate for today.
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I push the error out of my mind. It doesn’t really matter. It does. But it doesn’t. But it does. And yet it doesn’t.
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I didn’t cook the egg.
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He offers to go and get coffee. This is a good idea.
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So much giggling. Alone. In the car. Still some snow on top of the mountains. What is the name of this range?
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Why is she calling me? Why does he want to speak with me? What is going on here? Am I making a mistake? I don’t think I am. But it’s an easy fix. Right?
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Liminal Space. Still there. And yet saved a little by this conversation and also the magic of the internet.
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But yeah, when will I stop?
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I stick my body half out of the door, watch the steam come off my body. It’s so quiet. Cloud cover but still a little light from the moon.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Seven
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Probably shouldn’t have had that afternoon coffee.
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I thought they said it was going to rain.
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I remember that it’s her birthday and that I forgot to talk to the rest of the office about it but it’s early enough that I might be able to stop and get something. The french bakery, maybe?
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Green. White. Blue. Black. Brown. Gray.
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Wind whipping everything. So strong it sounds like the windows might blow in. Or maybe a tree could fall.
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So much water. Can barely see. I hate driving in this kind of weather. I hope the effort is worth it.
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He shows me how to use the fancy coffee machine. His name is Kash. Cash?
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I will not say anything today.
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So much talent. Too little confidence.
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Forgetfulness.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Six
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Wednesday.
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I spray the flower essence around the crown, set an intention.
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The water still has not moved. I try my best to wash the dishes so that we can have bowls for granola.
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What about tomorrow?
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I get to catch up with her during the commute. Only interrupted 3 times. I miss her. I miss them. I miss everything.
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The to-do list expands in different ways.
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Coffee for the ride home because there are things to do.
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But at least he’s shooting. He’s been told to shoot. He’s not afraid and that’s a good thing.
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Why are we the only parents cheering? It was like this in baseball too.
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“It’s an im-pasta.”
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Five
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No.
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I think maybe the mouth guard helped.
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The water is still right where it was. I unload the lunch containers from the dishwasher and wash them by hand. Work order.
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But the sun. Really. The sun and the green. And the brown. And the fog curling around Mount Diablo. It could be worse.
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I tell her that I am better. That I realized that I just have a hard time dealing with too much low-level thinking. But I find myself excited listening in to the discussion.
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Everything is temporary.
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I left my coffee cup on the Keurig. With coffee in it.
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Someone said the word. Finally. It did take 14 months of living here before he heard it. I guess maybe that’s something.
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He says that he was wet. I think it means that he was sweaty. Turns out it’s slang for making a lot of shots. I laugh. Kids these days. I’m getting too old to be hip to the slang.
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Tonight’s bathtub read: SVB State of the Wine Industry 2020. Mental list of questions to ask the husband or the president. I remember how much I enjoyed my Economics course.
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Is there a job where all you have to do is ask questions?
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Four
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Thank goodness I already made breakfast.
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Layer. One more.
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Enough time to sit on the sofa and write. Two pages instead of three. But two is better than zero.
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Check the traffic. Time keeps creeping up and then creeping back down.
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Will I remember this?
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Gratitude for the way time is passing today. Enough on the list to keep me occupied, to keep my fingers moving. I try to ignore everything else around me.
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I just won’t ever ask again.
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Remember all of the good things coming. So much to look forward to. But then I think of how the things I’m excited about require a different kind of sacrifice.
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I worry that maybe I made a bad bargain.
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She reminds me to turn the “don’t”s into “do”s.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Three
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Good rest.
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I remember that I promised scones so I ought to get up now and make those.
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Too much moisture? Too many blueberries?
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What time is it? Is he still sleeping? It’s almost 10.
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“…amazing people are attracted by a great culture. Whether we plan it or not, culture will happen. Why not create the culture we want?”
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”You cannot inspire unless you’re inspired yourself.”
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The three of us out here together. He’s surprisingly receptive. We show him how to defend down on the block, how to take one dribble and shoot, how to roll toward the basket in a pick-and-roll, a simple lay-up drill.
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He’s still out there.
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“Who ate the muffin?! Who ate the muffin?! WHO ATE THE MUFFIN?!“
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I could maybe eat the rest of these.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-Two
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Sweet Saturday.
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He brings me coffee and a warmed muffin on the tray. I grab my computer and open up the portal.
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I’ll just clean. Clear the house and my thoughts. This is how I sort all the things out. And it’s also a bad habit for soothing anxiety, but it’s still a tool.
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Leftover fried rice.
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Surprisingly empty for a Saturday afternoon. I’m grateful for that.
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It doesn’t always have to be as hard as you think it will be.
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Hellier.
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But there is so much goodness to look forward to and so just focus on that.
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Because when have you not ever been able to figure it out?
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She reads all the riddles. It’s a very long list of riddles. She refuses to leave until she’s read them all.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty-One
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Is it Saturday yet?
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No.
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Maybe they will still taste good even if I skip the sifting. And add both eggs in at once. Yeah, they’ll be just fine.
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Everyone always has to go to the bathroom right when it’s time to leave.
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It probably got stolen.
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The crew is out in the vineyards today. It would be a great day to get out there and shoot. I hope he brings his camera bag.
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He’s got the bag.
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“You know what time is? Almost time for our lunch.”
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Allies.
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I will not have a voice for the season. I forgot how much I love basketball. I miss coaching. I should make the little oneplay just so I can volunteer to coach.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twenty
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Up again. But this time feeling the fatigue of the week.
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Full moon soon.
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The sound of rain. I like rainy days but I love them most when I can stay beneath the covers or curl up on the couch. Today is not one of those days.
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I’m slicing potatoes and topping them with caramelized onions and bacon and cheese and putting them into the oven and thinking, “you’re doing this to yourself, you know?”
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There won’t be time tomorrow to clean after work but before dinner. But how will I get it done so that I can nap on Saturday? What will be for dinner? And how will it get made easily with a double-header tomorrow?
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I should just cancel our call. I already know the answer really. I just want the answer to be different.
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I don’t want to put myself in a position where I not meeting expectations because expectations were never communicated.
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I got it. Why is the email making me teary-eyed?
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I’m so tired I can’t even think. I just need a nap.
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I make the pizza dough way ahead of time so that I can get into the bath before dinner. I just need a very hot bath.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Nineteen
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I couldn’t really sleep any way.
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That strange red glow.
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Why is my phone going off. Oh yes! Our call.
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That definitely makes it all more clear. Everyone else is still sleeping. I can’t figure out what 25 times 50 is in my head because I haven’t yet had coffee. She uses her calculator. It really is amazing what you can accomplish in a short amount of time when you’re hyper-focused.
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I remind them that I have to leave in 15 minutes because I have a meeting. Give everyone kisses. Trust that they’ll figure it out without me.
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He’s talking and I realize that I have so much more to learn.
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Am I unapproachable?
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What is that noise? It sounds like running water. It is running water.
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“Is that what they call a burn?”
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“If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.”
Ten.Nine Hundred & Eighteen
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No, no. Time to get up.
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Where is the sweater. Save the sweater for another. Pick something else. But let it still be gray.
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“Did you sleep okay last night?” “Yes. I’m just confused as to how it’s already 6:45.” Rubs eyes.
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Forgot to get what I needed for banana muffins. I realize, as I’m in the middle of making granola and bacon and eggs, that in this moment, I am my own worst enemy. I could have just made them eat the frozen waffles.
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I roast tomatoes and a bell pepper in the oven to add to last night’s leftovers. Everything smells so good.
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At it already.
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Deep breaths. Try to avoid making eye contact.
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I should share this podcast with everyone. Because it’s not about money. I mean, it is definitely about money, but it’s about more than that.
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The win is the ask.
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Her face. So good to see her face. And to hear her voice. And it’s been long since we’ve talked. I will make it up to Seattle this year. That will happen.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Seventeen
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In the dream he convinced me to leave the doctor’s office and then I felt guilty for leaving which ruined the rest of my day. I think it’s time for me to wake up. Did I forget to set my alarm?
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A little too leisurely. 15 minutes behind. Still enough time to make banana muffins but there won’t be much time for anything else.
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All that celery. Very little juice.
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I get to drive his car today which means that the podcasts will come through crystal clear.
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Clear sky. Wind turbines standing still, at attention, atop the greening hills. Can see so, so far away.
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I know this feeling. I put a name to it right away. Why am I feeling said feeling? How can I shift this feeling into one that feels empowering instead of defeating?
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Huh.
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Take your time.
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She asks me why I never told her that I had won an art contest when grandma worked for Pepsi. I had forgotten. And oh yeah, I also had a piece of artwork in an art museum in North Carolina. I had forgotten. Yeah, I guess I’ve always been an artist. Also, we should move to a school district where you actually have art.
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“If you change, so will others around you, or else they will drop out of your life.”
Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixteen
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Late. Later than usual. What to make for breakfast?
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Still asleep. Monday is going to be rough. What can I do today to prepare for tomorrow? I feel like the answer is to just rest.
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Simple breakfast. I take my coffee and journal back to bed even though I’m fully clothed. The softness of the down comforter.
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Remove all the ornaments from the tree. This podcast always makes me laugh but today I giggle even more. “I just don’t care what people think about me. I don’t care what strangers think about me.” Yeah, there is definitely a lot of freedom to be found in not caring.
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She asks what the book is. I give her the title but confess that it’s not a book I would ever recommend to anyone because the bulk of it is maybe too dangerous.
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I tell her that her message was a sign. That I’d literally been journaling about this over the past few days and her message was exactly what I needed to encourage me to move forward.
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Hummingbird floating about the street, not even near a tree, just hovering there. I stop and stare at it. I laugh. I think of its medicine: adaptability, optimism, presence, swiftness, independence.
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Three pink roses.
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Rest.
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Back to the evening checklist.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifteen
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The sound of coffee I don’t have to make is particularly special.
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Threadbare tank top. What will I do when it’s too thin to wear anymore?
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Finally.
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Perspective is everything.
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He seems to be confused about who we are and why we’re here. Let’s just look at the dresser dude.
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I tell him about the book. About how I’m not exactly a fan of her writing style, and in fact, she’s quite privileged and ableist and a little too dismissive about certain issues around mental health, but the overall message is important. And I get it.
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The cows are eating something out of small white containers.
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Hawk.
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I waited too long to start the pork roast and everyone is very hungry because it’s already an hour past our normal dinner time.
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I want ice cream but I don’t.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Fourteen
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Why this song? Why does it have to be this one?
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What is that red glow? I thought it was Christmas lights but the swath of color is so wide, so deep in color that can’t be it. But maybe the fog is making the color seems more concentrated than it actually is?
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Yard full of rotten oranges. I should really take care of that this weekend.
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I prepare the marinade for the pork while sending her a Vox. She sends a Vox back saying that she’s also in the kitchen and so it’s like we’re both in the kitchen together. And this is the magic of the internet.
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Hash browns, bacon, scrambled egg.
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I miss writing my morning pages talking to her but it’s worth it.
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So much fog.
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Ha.
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So quiet. So quiet.
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Bubbly and fried chicken. Bath.
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”We can only sense their tight-lipped disapproval by their attitude and air of disdain.”
Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirteen
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Getting lost walking to the airport. All my luggage with me. Every turn takes me further and further away.
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Sigh.
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Morning pages by twinkle light. Still quiet. Not many more days of this left.
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The bacon isn’t cooking fast enough but then suddenly it’s overdone. I grab a biscuit and put it into a napkin, try not to spill my coffee as I make my way to the car.
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The light this morning is so pretty. Everything is glowing. Morning dew. Thin wisps of fog. Green.
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I giggle at the cows. I ask him if he too wonders how they don’t fall down the hill. Perhaps the hills aren’t as steep as I think they are. It’s still so funny to see.
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The garden is locked.
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I don’t think the refrigerator delivery guys are too happy with me. But I don’t really care. I measured. It’s going to fit. It fits.
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One is napping. The other two eat so quickly that they disappear before I finish my first glass of cinsaut.
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A good day? A good day.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Twelve
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It’s clear in the dream that she means for me to do something other than this but she needs to figure out what it is.
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Bowl of Lucky Charms. Cup of coffee. New day. New year. New planner.
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I want to listen to the message she left for me but Voxer is not working. Nothing is. Not even the podcast app. I guess I will have to be okay with my own thoughts.
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We need a culture fit.
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Bright sun. Mount Diablo. It’s quiet even though there are lots of people out. He’s running with no shoes on, nothing on his feet. His smile is wide.
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Someone keeps putting dish soap in the fountain. Big white walls of stiff bubbles.
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More tomato soup.
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I begin to understand the method and yes, this could be really effective. This could be exciting.
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Why the screaming, though? What could possibly warrant that kind of blood-curdling scream? This is why I won’t let them play in the house.
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“Self-esteem demands that you judge yourself positively. Confidence demands that you do not judge yourself at all.”
Ten.Nine Hundred & Eleven
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What a weird series of dreams. A really weird series of dreams.
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Oh, wait. I’m working today.
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Cereal for them. I’m not yet sure what I want. A biscuit? A bowl of Lucky Charms? The traffic will be light. I have time to think about it.
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But seriously. 2019 wasn’t exactly what I thought it would be. What exactly did I think it would be? I don’t even remember having any intention for it? But there were a lot of people who made it really great.
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Yes. I get to be chauffeured to work.
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I want to say, “what a lovely spring day!” but it’s actually winter. It still feels strange to me that this mildness and this showing of green is winter.
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Quiet in the office.
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What are you actually talking abou?.
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Quarters. That’s when I know it’s time to go.
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In bed by 10. Just like I planned. Happy New Year 34 year-old Alisha. Happy New Year.
Ten.Nine Hundred & Ten
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Awake but I keep my eyes closed. Seems too dark. 6:28. Angel numbers.
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No one’s eating the biscuits. These delightful, airy biscuits with the crunchy exterior.
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I should go check on the neighbor’s lemon tree. Really, I should go check on the neighbor and see if I can work out a deal for his lemons. After I pick up the rotting oranges.
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Make Time Off. Actually, taking this Monday off was a great idea. But maybe 7 days away from work is too long.
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Butter. Onions. Diced tomatoes. I tear up the french loaf for croutons. This makes me happy. In my ears I hear her say something about creative energy and cooking being one way to express your creativity. I know that I am most happy when there is plenty of time to make a meal, when it feels more like a treat and less like a chore.
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Yes. Food feels good.
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Finally a pair of shoes.
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I curl up under the blanket and read. I’m crossing off the items on my MTO list. That feels very satisfying.
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“She had made fresh starts before and things had not turned out as she had hoped, but she believed in the swift decision, the unforeseen intervention, the uniqueness of her fate.” - from “Carried Away” by Alice Munro
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“If you read a lot of Alice Munro’s works carefully, sooner or later, in one of her short stories, you will come face to face with yourself; this is an encounter that always leaves you shaken and often changed, but never crushed.” - from The Nobel Prize in Literature presentation speech in 2013