Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Seven

1. Surprisingly not as tired as I thought I would be.

2. So much thunder and lightning. I give them more time which gives me more time. I lay and listen to the sound of the rain.

3. Quiet house.

4. I realize the restlessness is just anxiety about the return home. I busy myself putting furniture back where it belongs.

5. I know it will be hard to put into words.

6. No matter how old you get, it still feels good to lay down in your parents bed. She turns on the first episode of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.

7. Emails. Delayed flights. Familiar faces.

8. He says that the airport is the best place for making new friends and that if you’re not making friends at the airport then you really need to take a look at yourself.

9. I find a friend from the symposium and we sit and talk. We talk so much I almost miss the first leg of my flight. My bun tumbles down as I walk/run to the gate.

10. “No agua?” “No. No agua, por que tengo agua.” “Habla espanol?” “Un poco pero necesito practicar.” We speak a few a few more sentences and then he tells me that my spanish is very good. That feels significant.

11. I intended to sleep but we talk the entire flight. Our names begin with the same letters. Our daughters’ names rhyme. We’ll both be in New Orleans again at the same time next month. We do the same work and believe in the power of the ocean.

12. The familiarity of the dark roads.

13. Trying not to dwell on the work that needs to be done but on the experience that needs processing.

14. Tired.

15. Restored.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Six

1. If I keep this trend up I won’t be able to get up at my regular time.

2. Shadow play. Light play. Everything feels familiar yet also not.

3. Gratitude for the slow start to the day. Space.

4. We eat the last few pieces of the fried chicken with Crystals. I have coffee and water.

5. I will miss this house. It so quickly became a home.

6. Where is everyone? Was it something to do with whatever it was that happened the night before? Is it a result of logistics.

7. Murmurings

8. I have to stop telling myself that I’m not ready to go home.

9. This is going to be a thing.

10. I let the tears fall into the corners of my mouth, dab my face with my scarf, make sure to keep drinking water, allow myself to just listen and be present.

11. I continue to sit with it.

12. She did say it wouldn’t be wrapped up in a bowtie. Incomplete and yet, also it is.

13. Oysters. Abita Amber. Hot pink drinks. Laughter. Laughter. We all needed laughter.

14. I tell him to just get me in the morning. People are running behind and this feels important. It feels important to stay.

15. This was the way to end it-with release. With movement. With joy.

16. “You don’t live here.”

17. Why is your coat on? It’s actually already time for you to leave?

18. Good-byes. No. Not good-byes. See-you-laters.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Five

1. Quiet house. Still so many lights on from the night before. Start the coffee. Refill the water bottle.

2. The way light falls in the corners of this house. I miss having white walls. Everything just looks more peaceful.

3. Insta-story. Probably too long. Probably not the best way to do it. Probably no one will listen. But that’s okay. I really did it for me anyway.

4. Fried Chicken.

5. I walk quickly to the museum. Don’t want to be late.

6. Omar Tate. Light bulbs go off in my head. We have to make sure he gets to Oakland soon.

7. I realize that events like these with so many people are just plain hard for me. There’s this weird desire to connect but to also hide, to fade into the background.

8. Four!

9. How do you construct your identity as a black woman? Who are our icons?

10. Rublaison.

11. No little walking man signs.

12. Young Chef. Black Chef. From Jersey and New Orleans. He put sugar in the cornbread and that, to me, is the greatest thing.

13. Table talk.

14. “…know that there is someone, somewhere who believes in you.” - Randall

15. “On a scale of one to ten, how slappin’ was it?” - Rebekah

16. Sore throat from so much talking.

17. At the end of the day, it’s all about narrative.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Four

1. 1:45 am. So loud. But why? Full-on party. But it is New Orleans after all. And maybe they don’t need to get up in the morning. But seriously does it need to be so loud.

2. I get ready quietly. I’m the first one awake. I head downstairs and make the coffee, remeasure the coffee with the tablespoon.

3. The four of us walk to the event center. We don’t like to be late.

4. Black Women and Labor. Build your own table.

5. She takes us to church. I already knew by the way she talked that she was a preacher or the daughter of a preacher. There’s just something about the way she talks.

6. Unbought and unbossed.

7. Tears.

8. Motherhood and hospitality.

9. I realize that there’s no way for me to present any kind of notes because in order to share what I’m learning, you’d need to have context and I don’t think they will want the context. And I don’t think I’m capable of providing it. Nor should I have to do the labor.

10. So many people.

11. Who’s funding who?

12. Tears. I need to listen to the episode.

13. More tears.

14. Am I even in the right place do to the right things? What does it mean to work within the system I’m a part of to make change? Particularly change that affects black and brown bodies?

15. Owning a table and owning the tent.

16. “If a person doesn’t feel comfortable in my space, then I’ve failed.”

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Three

1. 3:30 comes quickly.

2. So dark. So foggy. Pre-flight jitters.

3. She sits with me at the table and gets on the phone. When she’s done I ask her if she’s a doctor. She is. An Ob/Gyn. A black one. She says she taught at Wake Forest. I tell her that I went to Wake Forest too. Small world.

4. A whole row to myself. The stewardess is a little chatty for 6 am. That’s okay. Could be worse.

5. Only in California would I sit next to a black guy eating vegan jerky. Right?

6. Everything looks entirely different. I can’t figure out how to get out of the airport. But it’s nice. It’s really nice.

7. Mom and dad. Nitro. I feed him my leftover french fries.

8. Not enough time.

9. I pick a room at the back of the house, upstairs, away from the noise. I have a feeling I’m the oldest one, the only one in need of going to bed much earlier than everyone else.

10. I’ve been looking forward to this night for so long.

11. Omar Tate. Ashtin Berry. I see Chef Elle across the way. And Klancy Miller. And Krystal Mack.

12. So much people-ing. But all so good. So much to learn. Grateful to be in spaces with those who are willing to ask questions and have difficult conversations.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Two

1. 1:32am.

2. My eyes don’t even want to close, my head feels tight with thoughts. I tell myself to breathe and not freak out about being so wide awake.

3. Mental list of what to do for work before leaving tomorrow.

4. Fog so thick. Only scared because I don’t know these roads too well.

5. Both coaches are black. This one still plays in a semi-pro league. “We want to grow them into young men. I’ll be your biggest critic but also your biggest fan.” This will be good.

6. Yeah.

7. Second baseball practice drop off. Fog still low and milky. He tells me that he didn’t even want to play. Too late for a refund. He’ll be fine.

8. Car horns.

9. They give me a round of applause.

10. Never not anxious about travel.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Two

1. 1:32am.

2. My eyes don’t even want to close, my head feels tight with thoughts. I tell myself to breathe and not freak out about being so wide awake.

3. Mental list of what to do for work before leaving tomorrow.

4. Fog so thick. Only scared because I don’t know these roads too well.

5. Both coaches are black. This one still plays in a semi-pro league. “We want to grow them into young men. I’ll be your biggest critic but also your biggest fan.” This will be good.

6. Yeah.

7. Second baseball practice drop off. Fog still low and milky. He tells me that he didn’t even want to play. Too late for a refund. He’ll be fine.

8. Car horns.

9. They give me a round of applause.

10. Never not anxious about travel.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-One

1. TGIF.

2. The sizzle of the oil. Out of coffee. Out of orange juice. No desire to make an egg. I forget about the potatoes. I could have made a hash.

3. No training takes place without a snack. I place an order for bagels, check google maps for traffic. 47 minutes.

4. The bagel lady has no smile. But I’m sure she’s been awake for too long already. I smile anyway.

5. Coffee on my clothes.

6. I tell the group that screw cap on a wine bottle is no longer and indication of a cheap or poor quality wine.

7. At the end of the day, everyone just wants more education. I think that’s fair.

8. It’s almost right. Almost exactly right.

9. They tell me that the fear is normal. The fear is normal. Change is always scary but you’re never stuck.

10. Still too much to do before I leave.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty

1. Today is only Thursday? Only Thursday.

2. The longest week. Longer than last week.

3. Funny/infuriating that he thinks he can just curl himself right back up and go to bed. Why does someone pretend to be angry? Preteens.

4. Everything seems rushed for some reason? Collapsed time.

5. I rotate my head slowly and try to meet her eyes as if to say, “Did you just hear what I just heard?”

6. I try not to laugh. Old, rich grandmas priding themselves on taking business class instead of first class, discussing how horrid their grandchildren are. “Would it be possible to separate the rice from the paella?”

7. Ready.

8. Easier than expected. Credit to Michael and all those podcasts I’ve been listening to in order to prepare for something like this.

9. I leave on Sunday.

10. Just tired.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Nine

1. Remember that you need to be there early.

2. Enough bacon to share.

3. Making the lunch. Watching the light. When was the last time I took a picture? I won’t have enough time.

4. Bright orange sun. Thick gray fog behind the silhouette of the hill-mountains.

5. Stopped in traffic. I take a picture.

6. Scam Goddess.

7. But if there isn’t trust, what is there?

8. He says it’s just nerves. I try to separate emotion from fact, heart from logic.

9. He looks happy. They needed a win.

10. Already asleep. Just like a baby.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Eight

1. Feeling a little more rested.

2. Have I miscounted the days? No matter. Or does it indeed matter?

3. I take off the sweater and put on a sweatshirt. Best to not go into the meeting smelling like potstickers. I know the aroma tends to linger.

4. Giggles are good.

5. Maybe too many beverages on the table.

6. Maybe too many questions? Maybe too many notes? I write a lot but it’s because it helps me remember.

7. A little bit of sun.

8. ”What’s your role here? I love your questions.”

9. Head — mush.

10. Why are we even here?

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Seven

1. Must get up.

2. I promise myself to go to bed early tonight. I don’t want to get sick before the symposium.

3. Big batch of nettle tea to get me through the morning.

4. My feelings about it still haven’t changed. Nothing has changed.

5. Early because I know there are things I want to do and because i know I need to be home early enough to get the kid to his game on time.

6. I miss writing in community. I miss my community. I miss having time to engage with folks I’m actually curious about and in relationship with.

7. So tired I can’t even think. Eyes barely open. I don’t think there’s enough coffee for this kind of fatigue.

8. Maybe it’s not as efficient as I had hoped it would be. They can go back to the old way once I’m no longer in charge of this. But how long will that be? Maybe that’s up to me.

9. Another loss. I guess I’m getting used to it.

10. I ask him to stop asking me those kinds of questions because my brain hurts. “What would your by-the-glass cost be?" $25?” “That sounds too high. Are people even buying by-the-glass at that cost for a brand they’ve never heard of and that has no provenance?” “That means we’d need to be making something close to ultra-luxury. But no more questions. I can’t talk about this now.” Too many dreams in the head. No clarity on which one to follow.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Six

1. TIme to get up.

2. Long list of things to do.

3. Make the best of it.

4. It takes a really long time to hand-grate chocolate bars. Like, a really long time. Then I remember that I am getting paid for it so I must continue.

5. The different colors of light that filter through the windows. Peachy tones and blue tones and soft green hues. I think of the photo filters that give an image that Vintage California feel. I feel like I’m living in a picture.

6. A long line of cows on the crest of the hill.

7. The Four Agreements.

8. Just nerves, maybe.

9. How is it already 5 o’clock?

10. I write furiously, edit, have him read it, and then send it off. “Closed mouths don’t get fed.”

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Five

1. Up, up, the sun is up, so up with you. I used to have that book memorized.

2. The gentle arrival of daylight. No time for slowness today. Straight to business.

3. But do they all really want to play? They get more expensive every year. You think you spend a lot in diapers. Wait until they’re old enough to play sports.

4. I weep on the inside. There will be no time to clean today. Probably not even tomorrow. I’m supposed to not care but I do. Piles of things everywhere. Dirty floors. Unmade beds.

5. Leftover soup before the conference call. Making a list of questions. Committing myself to asking them.

6. There’s no point if we aren’t willing to be uncomfortable.

7. I carefully section her head. I don’t want to make too much work for myself but I know that the upfront investment of time will save all of us so much headache for at least a few weeks.

8. Snickers.

9. One week. I leave for New Orleans in one week. In some ways, I will still be working but I am also aware of the fact that I will get a much-needed break.

10. Done.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Four

1. Today.

2. I am moving slower than intended. Too slow.

3. Now everything is too fast. Where is the time going?

4. She says something about the t.v. being a giant mirror and then I realize that I have zero privacy in this position. Which means my days are even less fun.

5. Not surprised. Still disappointed, but not surprised.

6. What are the signs? Probably a sinking feeling in your stomach every time you walk through the door.

7. I am surprised by its beauty. Suddenly, this random opportunity doesn’t seem so bad at all.

8. Nerves.

9. “And I think that’s all of my drama for the day.”

10. Unbearably hot water that I refuse to get out of. I”m sure it’s bad for my skin but there are too many stories to read.

11. This will not feel like a weekend at all.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Three

1. Just a few more minutes.

2. I probably should have stayed up late to finish it but no. I have to rest. I have to rest.

3. Early morning darkness. The quiet and the comfort. They will need to get lunch before school. Maybe we were missing some things from the grocery order. Maybe someone ate everything in secret. Food has a way of disappearing too quickly.

4. Diet Culture and Capitalism.

5. I can’t understand what he’s saying but I really need to know.

6. Why is she being semi-normal? She must know something’s afoot.

7. “Becoming an adult is a scam.”

8. Standing at attention today. I think it’s funny how something standing so still can be so captivating.

9. I realize that i’m standing up and that I’m the only one standing up. These Californians are too chill.

10. I’m too angry to even read. All the words are a blur.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Three

1. The dream. I want to experience just the last few minutes of it over and over again. I replay it in my mind before getting out of bed. There are just certain things you need to hold on to.

2. Make coffee. Clean the kitchen counters. The granite in this kitchen was never sealed or never re-sealed and so it’s pitted in random places. Which means that every time I run my fingers across the countertops I think there is food stuck to it. This drives me bananas. I can never tell if they’re clean.

3. The sound of the coffee percolating. I think back to our conversation when I said something about how it’s not even just the drinking of coffee that’s become a ritual, but the sound of the coffeemaker that brings about some peace, offers some grounding.

4. Game day.

5. I thought it was Wednesday?

6. If nothing else, it’s just good to have an ally, no matter the result.

7. I keep myself from reaching out to grab one of the calamari. I assume that if I could have eaten some he would have told me to dig it. PIctures first.

8. Truffled popcorn.

9. The baby cows are no longer babies anymore.

10. The boys are travelling all over the place. But we finally win a game. Maybe his method is slow and steady.

11. The story is right here. The story is right here.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Two

1. That dream. That dream.

2. Work today. Not looking forward to getting them ready. I think, last night, I told him that I also wished we were still on vacation. I like mornings that don’t require me to boss people around.

3. I shouldn’t think of it as bossing people around. “We lead them,” is what he would say.

4. Leftover roasted chicken, leftover pecorino bread crumbs, caesar dressing, and greens.

5. Gratitudes for access to this car which gets me over the hills with so much ease.

6. I want to write down what he’s saying about marginalized folks but I can’t because I’m driving. But let me remember it as something like this, “It’s the people who are often marginalized who tend to be in these liminal spaces, who see and experience phenomena…” Something like that. Something that rings true.

7. So much distraction. Open office concepts are such a bad idea for the introvert who dislikes overstimulation.

8. The water is cold. So cold. I knew I should have made him take his shower before dinner.

9. She tells me that she believes in me. And it’s oddly comforting to hear that from someone who knew me for only a few months. I press on.

10. I want there to be a season 3.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-One

1. I can sleep a little longer.

2. A little longer.

3. Feels like a great day for this sweater. If only I had a few more in other colors. But at least I have this today. Comfort.

4. Bacon and eggs. Orange juice. 750 ml of water. Coffee. Sofa. The gray light. Gratitude for these few quiet moments.

5. Frosty. I like “Forest” better.

6. In a way, it makes me even more curious about making it work. Could I make it work?

7. But I don’t want to be a part of a lie.

8. Just nerves.

9. I feel like him. I feel like him when he’s angry about getting off the xbox because it’s the only way he can talk to his friends. When I feel this feeling I feel like it was a mistake, I feel a little angry, I feel a little bit hopeless. I get it now. This is just sadness. This is just missing the things and people you love.

10. No one did their laundry.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty

1. Gray, gray, gray.

2. I know what to do. I may not want to do it.

3. He lets me have the tv to watch my paranormal shows before the football begins.

4. Pages and pages. Highlighting. Exhausting myself.

5. I tell her that maybe it’s just that I’m afraid to put it all in writing and then have to commit to it. And then what do I do if it turns out that I don’t like it?

6. Trying to distinguish fear from intuition. Is it just that maybe I want to do something completely different?

7. These kids.

8. No nap. But lots of laying in bed and being tired.

9. ”Of course, I had less time for reading now, and sometimes I would hold a book in my hand as an object, not as a vessel I had to drain immediately—and I would have a flick of fear, as in a dream when you find yourself in the wrong building or have forgotten the time for the exam and understand that this is only the tip of some shadowy cataclysm or lifelong mistake.” - “Cortes Island” by Alice Munro

10. I will fall asleep before all of them.