Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Seven

1. 4:47.

2. Wednesday. I forgot my charger. Going to have to fix that.

3. Morning pages on the sofa. I drape the soft blue blanket around my soldiers. Coffee. Quiet.

4. Home.

5. I know this won’t work but I keep fiddling with the pieces. This will just be a waste of time.

6. More questions.

7. She helps me by running to get the papers from the printer. We like fancier font but the simpler one is easier to read. We sigh. But function over form.

8. The silhouette of Mount Diablo against a faded tangerine sky.

9. Cold bleachers.

10. “Thirty days,” he says. “Thirty days.“

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Six

1. I can’t remember the specifics but it was strange.

2. Make the coffee, make a lunch, drink water. I make a slice of toast. Coffee. There’s time for me to sit this morning.

3. Emails in that inbox keep piling up. I will need a dedicated morning for it sometime this week.

4. I like the way the little stream reflects the morning light. I always look for it: a curl of glimmering water amongst the green pasture.

5. This guy is funny.

6. There is no way I can use that drip pot. Maybe I will take it home to clean. I look over the kitchen area and then make my way over to the tasting room’s break room to see if they have a Keurig in there. Nothing. I take myself and my empty cup back to my desk. He offers to make me an americano with his espresso machine. Well, hot damn. I wish I had seen it earlier.

7. Note to self: obtain coffee pot for office.

8. Lunch under the peppercorn tree overlooking the vineyard.

9. I tell him that I worry that I am not doing enough. He reminds me that it’s only my second day.

10. What would it be like to exist without the unnecessary pressure I put upon myself? When did I develop the habit of overworking? And why?

11. I look at all of their faces and, wow. They are not babies anymore.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Five

1. It was lunch time in the dream and everyone kept moving me from table to table. They were trying to convince me that this was the best place to be. I wonder if there will be a third time and, if there is a third time, will it be the charm?

2. First day jitters.

3. Water, celery juice, orange juice, more water. Stomach to jumpy for solid foods it seems. I’ll settle down at some point.

4. Monday morning traffic is the worst.

5. I turn off 84 onto Vineyard Avenue. There is still some fog draping over the vines. I see a little house I hadn’t noticed before; it’s the perfect little wine country cottage. Surely someone must live there. The sound of gravel beneath the tires.

6. Less nervous. More excited.

7. I will forget these names.

8. So much sunshine. I call him as I walk among some recently pruned Sauvignon blanc. This feels good and right.

9. He asks me what I like to drink. I tell him old world wines for sure. He gives me a bottle of Trebbiano and Nebbiolo. He tells me that he loves new world wines and rhone reds iike Grenache and Syrah. I tell him that Syrah is one of my favorites and totally unappreciated. He agrees and then pulls out an unmarked bottle of Syrah, a side project. He’s also growing mushroom. Winemaker Jesse and I will be good friends.

10. He had a good day too. We both needed a good day like today.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Four

1. The birds again.

2. The smell of coffee, the sound of him playing with his X-wing fighter, the burst of heat coming through the vent.

3. Celery juice.

4. I finally commit to getting myself to the yoga class and it’s cancelled. It’s cancelled!

5. Her face, her voice, her laugh. I let out all that’s been happening in the last month. All of this has happened just in February! I try to talk about Resistance Served and what it was and what it means to me. “It sounds like it was a coming home.” Yes, that’s exactly what it was. It was like coming home.

6. I take her to the store for more jeans. We can’t decide on the appropriate length for shorts. I won’t let her get press-on nails. I try to be logical about it, “but like, you’re playing softball. How are you supposed to play softball with press-on nails? They’ll never last.” Tweens.

7. She’s pouty. Maybe I ought to plan a day of thrifting. We can talk about consumerism in a different way, how we can shop based on values, and how she can create unique looks and her own style by avoiding the traditional mall-like stores. Parenting.

8. Popcorn for lunch.

9. He tells me he’s proud of me and excited for me. I just feel nerves. Like Linda said, “You got a big-girl job.”

10. Fish tacos. Sparkling wine. I should eat more. I’ll be hungry when I wake up.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Three

1. Two dreams. Both about community, being in groups. The first dream was my Resistance Served family. The people in the second one were unfamiliar. I know, I know. I’m meant to do community work.

2. Same time each morning. Chorus of bird song. They sound like they are in the walls. Maybe in the chimney? It’s loud, so loud.

3. Coffee, milk, and orange juice.

4. Drop biscuits. I forget how good these are until I break one open and bite into it. So light and fluffy. She says she doesn’t like drop biscuits. She’s wrong.

5. Target first thing in the morning is not so bad. I see faces that look like mine and then ask myself again, “Am I willing to move to where I am the one and only again? Am I willing to do that to myself and my kids?”

6. A field of wild mustard.

7. I just want everyone else to love a clean home as much as I do. Don’t they know I’m a Cancer?

8. Bryant Terry’s fried smashed potatoes. But first the corn relish. The corn is not as sweet as I’d like it to be but in the summer when the Brentwood Sweet Corn returns, it will take this recipe to another level.

9. I miss my art.

10. That’s what I can hold on to. I can hold on to the coming bounty of spring. I can hold on to plum tarts and peach cobblers and tomatoes sprinkled with flaky salt and figs drizzled with olive oil. Little pleasures that tether.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-Two

1. In the dream we were sitting by the ocean, watching the water crash against the shore.

2. In the next dream I couldn’t get on the plane to get home. This is the fourth dream about planes and airports and an inability to get to where I want to go. I need to look this up.

3. Last day.

4. I feel rushed now and I hate feeling rushed.

5. ”No Problem” by Chance the Rapper. I look over at him and see trying so hard not to like it. How can you not like it?

6. The last time I drive down this road at 8:42am.

7. Orchid and cake.

8. The three hours go by too quickly. How am I already done? Done, done?

9. ”Politicians is phony, they be villains, impostors! / They gonna tell you it’s gold, but show it really be copper / And they don't want you tappin' into all that spirit inside us / They want you chasin' the carrot / Want you fiendin' for Pradas / They want you sick 'til you vomit / 'Cause you no use when you conscious” - “Alkaline” by Kota the Friend

10. Thresholds.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty-One

1. 2:38am.

2. I can feel my heart beating in my throat.

3. 5:40. Heart still in throat. I laugh at how I’ve developed these physical manifestations of anxiety over these past few years. I am really understanding the mind and body connection through this experience.

4. Yes. Women do need to have more conversations about money and power. Let’s talk about the pay gap. Let’s figure out what it means to do the work of ensuring we have equal pay.

5. I see what he was saying now. I should tell him that he was right. I still think I was right too. I can be both right and wrong. Right in my anger, wrong in my approach.

6. So what is the best way to use whatever power and privilege I do have? This is not the best way. I can write. I can organize. I can be on panels.

7. The cow is awfully close to the wire, so close to the road.

8. I tell her that I’m grieving. I’m grieving the idea of a life that I envisioned for myself here in this place.

9. I walk and listen. No tears.

10. You can be both sad and happy, happy and sad.

11. I’m glad I came. I almost cry telling her what I told someone else this morning; I thought I’d be here longer. It’s just cosmic timing. But I thought I’d be here longer. But I’m doing what I came to California to do. it just won’t be here.

12. These two conversations are exactly what I needed to shift my spirit. Deep sigh.

13. My hand hurts from writing.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Sixty

1. Earlier and earlier.

2. Grind beans, fill pot with water, wait.

3. No. I will still go in early, still attend the meeting. I will finish the job. I think of what I’ll write, the people I need to thank; the amount of work I accomplished in such a short time; the ways in which I learned firsthand the difficulties presented to women returning to the workforce after choosing to be caregivers; the irony of being told that you’re over-qualified and yet under-qualified over and over again; sad to leave but also proud. Slow down. I haven’t even had coffee yet.

4. Debby Millman interviewing Lucy Wainwright Roche. I’m with you Lucy, I also like sad songs.

5. The last one.

6. I remembered headphones today. I walk through the parking lot and toward the vineyards where we tried to capture some shots of the vineyard team. I find two bluish cranes. Or are they herons? I can never tell. Blunt cuts on the vines, wires, green hills and golf carts off in the distance. Resistance Served Vibes soundtrack in my ears. I want to cry.

7. The last hour goes by too quickly. We’ll have more time tomorrow.

8. A 50-point win is a fun way to end the season.

9. This is ego talking and I know it but I also want to give it voice.

10. He will tell me to take it down.

11. I know he thinks I’m just afraid of the new thing. It’s not the work that I’m afraid of—I know I can do almost anything I want to do. It’s just the newness of everything I’m about to enter into.

12. I lean against the shower wall and think of what she said: “Nothing is subtractive.” Everything matters. All of this is important.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Nine

1. The kind of dream you want to wake up from and don’t want to remember.

2. Cold feet.

3. He has a tear in his eye. He says it’s because he doesn’t want to go to school. My guess is that he’s just really tired.

4. I miss white walls.

5. I don’t buy flowers like I used to. I should change that. They always make me feel so much better.

6. It’s such a strange feeling to sit in a room and have everyone talk around you as if you’ve already left. Also, she’s not here today. I wish I had known. I forgot my headphones.

7. I try to steam the wrinkles out of the curtains but it’s not working. I pack up my things and head out. There’s no one to train, no one to help. I let him know I’ll be home early.

8. I can let this be easy.

9. They lose by three. I knew they would lose once they got back onto the floor after half time. I could see it in their body language; tired. An unsustainable pace.

10. I choose leftover soup and a caesar salad for my dinner. Everyone wants to eat all the croutons. Who knew they would become such a thing in our house.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Eight

1. Up earlier than I wanted to be but I attribute that to an early bedtime. Before 9pm? Winning.

2. Not enough milk for drop biscuits so I decide on scones instead. How in the world are you supposed to accurately add half of a beaten egg?

3. Perfectly crisp scone bottoms and hot coffee. I finish typing up my responses. I hope that they make sense. The thing is, I still don’t have the most perfect words for it all, but hopefully this is enough.

4. She asks if I have time to talk today. My first instinct is to say “no” because right now I feel like hiding. But I know I will feel better if I say “yes.”

5. She asks me about community for myself. I tell her that I don’t have one yet. That I realize that I need one. That the places in which I thought I might find it have not turned out to be what I needed. I know it takes time. I am only 15 months in. It seems like a long time but it also isn’t. But I also wonder if we just need to move.

6. So grateful for a short week.

7. He uses the most perfect analogy about kitchens. Now, I actually understand. As he’s talking, I add up the dollars in my head. I feel uncomfortable. I realize I am uncomfortable because I know that I’m about to make a big ask. Still so much work to do.

8. New phone to replace the one that will be given back at the end of the week. I want a local number for this position. I’ll need something better than the 6 for what I’ll be doing. Still uncomfortable.

9. While the soup simmers step outside to swing in the hammock. The sun feels so good.

10. I worry about the dry winter and the breezes and wonder what it will mean for fire season.

11. The margarita is just okay. We could have made a better one at home and sat in the sun. Summertime goal: a well-stocked bar for patio drinks. Remember to ask Hilde about the cocktail book she used that one season.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Seven

1. In the dream are familiar places and spaces but they keep morphing. I think of the dream I had a few nights ago where I was back at Wake Forest and trying to navigate Tribble Hall in the dark, wandering from classroom to classroom.

2. I want it to be quieter than it is. I stay in bed and stare at the ceiling.

3. Birdsong.

4. Meal planning. These glazed turnips look good. I feel like more tomato soup and homemade croutons.

5. I want to go but I also don’t want to go. I really need to work on this. But really, this weekend is about my own mental health.

6. I listen to the vibes soundtrack while I grocery shop.

7. Hammock. Clear blue skies. The hum of the hummingbirds. A pool pump? Lawn mower. Dog barking. I close my eyes and let the sun burn my face. Solar powered.

8. We’re going to have to figure out our wine situation.

9. “I think this is happy, I think this is sad / I think this is laughing, I think this is glad / I think this is happy, I think this is sad / I think this is laughing, I think this is glad” - Ravyn Lenae, “Moon Shoes”

10. To ice cream, or not to ice cream. That is the question.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Six

1. I don’t remember falling asleep.

2. The very beginning of dawn when the sky is a faint indigo. Birdsong.

3. I yell for him to get up. He has baseball practice at 8 am.

4. I promise myself no cleaning for today. This weekend is just for rest.

5. I don’t know how I missed that detail. I could have gotten even more. How did we both miss it? Oh well. Best not to dwell. Just over deliver. Next time, I won’t make the same mistake.

6. Fear.

7. The librarian walks me over to a computer so that I can log in and pay for the book my daughter lost. I type in my name. “Are you the same Alisha that takes all the pictures on Instagram? I think we follow you. Your work is gorgeous.” I shrink a little. But I smile and say that yes, that is me.

8. Hammock nap.

9. I gather the ingredients. They look so pretty on the board so I photograph them. I miss the joy of cooking. I want to bring that back into my life.

10. The ice cream is soft. The fridge is probably about to go out. That’s great. What a week.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Five

1. Not as sweaty as last night.

2. Friday. No one else has school or work but me. I pray the day goes by quickly.

3. I forgot Valentine’s for the kids. I’ll grab them on the way home.

4. Baby cows all over. Green grass. Blue sky here but I can see the fog off in the distance. The valley will still be overcast when we make our descent. But the sun will reveal itself soon.

5. The to-do list is much shorter than it’s been the previous weeks. It feels good to have some breathing space.

6. I stop her from talking. It’s my own fault for engaging. I know better.

7. I forgot my lunch. I suck on a cough drop to stop my stomach from growling.

8. I know my aura is janky today. I need to get out of here.

9. We find some sparkling, Nicolas Feuillatte. I think of New Orleans and Willie Mae’s.

10. Too tired to stay up and drink it.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Four

1. Drenched from night sweat.

2. Less of that needing to throw up feeling.

3. Gratitude for all the ways in which we’ve been supported. The ways in which he is feeling supported.

4. I am almost done. I am almost done.

5. The cows have shifted pasture. This must be why they were out here picking up trash earlier in the week.

6. I realize that when people ask where I am going and what I will be doing there, I get a little quiet. It’s a mixture of sadness, fear, imposter syndrome. I will miss this beautiful place. I will miss some of the people. But the timing is right. I didn’t even know how right it was.

7. I find the cloth for the hammock and drag the stand out into a patch of sun. I go back inside and grab the Ste. Michelle blanket and Vegetable Kingdom. I don’t know why I think I’m going to read. I just close my eyes and lay in the sun.

8. I tell her that what I really need is a break. That while Resistance Served fortified me in so many ways, it also let me emotionally exhausted. And I am still so deep in my feelings. Add to that everything else in life that has happened in a week.

9. What does sustainable labor look like in the context of my own life?

10. Bo Ssam. I could eat the ginger scallion sauce on everything. Already ready for bed. I can do hard things.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Three

1. 4:45. Might as well get up now.

2. Weather? The same. Warm. But so chilly to start. Where are my slippers?

3. The sputter of the coffee maker. It’s on its way out.

4. I’m not hungry but I know I need to eat.

5. I ask him if it’s okay for me to post it to Instagram. He approves. I wonder if it’s a good idea or not but what I do know is that you won’t know if you don’t ask.

6. I feel like everyone is surprised to see me here. I don’t know. I guess I just plan to keep on doing my job.

7. A lot of DMs. So much gratitude.

8. She whispers “traitor” as she walks past. We both laugh.

9. Walking meeting.

10. I tell her that I constantly feel like I’m going to throw up in my mouth. Probably need a new kind of meditation practice.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-Two

1. Seriously?

2. I try to slow my breath and clear my thoughts so that I can get at least one more hour of sleep. Just one more hour.

3. Still uneasy.

4. I had forgotten how much worse traffic is earlier in the morning but I need to get there. I’ll be more productive without the distraction anyway.

5. It’s good to hear her voice. I’m grateful for the opportunity to vent. To not have any answers.

6. He says what I thought he would say. I am nothing but nerves. Shaky. I step outside. The sun feels good. I go inside. Inside does not feel good. I take a walk to the other side of the property. It’s still quiet. I lean against the wine barrel and stare out over the vineyard and the hills and the blue sky.

7. Just not in the mood.

8. Still nothing and that makes me even more upset, makes me feel even more justified in my choice.

9. It’s a cute play. Some of us are more into it than others.

10. His optimism makes all of this a lot easier.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty-One

1. Monday. Throat doesn’t feel as rough. Maybe the voice will be back today.

2. Only a little raspy.

3. Seems like we’re all running just a little bit behind. Not surprised. I hate feeling so rushed. But I needed to bring the camera out. I needed to say something.

4. I just want to stay focused.

5. I miss my words. I wonder what it might be like to sit and write about new things in new ways. I’m still leaning on old language and ideas even though so much newness is present. It’s just time. I feel like there is never enough time.

6. I walk with her back to her car. She tells me what she’s worried about with all of the changes going on. It makes me wonder if I’m in the wrong field of work. People tell me things, lots of things, things I don’t ask to know and yet, for whatever reason, they continue to let the words fall out of their mouths.

7. Tedium.

8. Walking meeting. I wish the garden was unlocked. The sun is so bright. This is why we moved here: for 72 degrees in February. For so much sun. I think about the hammock at home. I won’t have time for it today.

9. We break the rules and let them watch the television. I just need them to not ask me questions while I make this. Pearl Couscous would have been better but the dittalini works just fine. Roasted tomatoes and herbs and chickpeas and feta and parmesan, fresh dill and fresh parsley. A drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Worth dinner being late.

10. So many tears.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Fifty

1. I wiggle my feet. No pain. Maybe it fell out after all.

2. I hear the wind whipping the palms. Then an alert on my phone for wind advisory.

3. Still no voice. Sore throat. Tired. He offers me coffee in bed. I go with green juice first.

4. I throw on my robe and boots and head to the backyard to get lemons from the tree. I smell the skin. These will make a good tea.

5. Meal plan and grocery list. Coffee. I break to help him sort through his papers. Just need to get it done. Almost at the finish line.

6. Still scrolling for Resistance Served pictures.

7. More tea.

8. I watch the wind blow sticks and leaves and the baseball net across the yard. I listen to the wind slap at the windows and walls.

9. Still no voice.

10. ”Are you a mammy?” - Krystal Mack

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Nine

1. Still so tired. Still no voice.

2. He brings me coffee in bed. I just keep searching for pictures from Resistance Served. James has a countdown. I’ll make one for myself too.

3. If I can just get myself up out of the bed to clean.

4. A needle in my toe. I hobble over to the bed and see a piece of metal beneath the skin but no way to get it out.

5. They tell me to go to the ER.

6. The kid has a broken hand, a compound fracture for sure. He’s got bruising all the way up to his elbow and is crying. She’s irate. I want to walk over to the kid and tell him to breathe. The mother wants to cut in front of the line. There is only one person in front of her. She tells her husband to call 911 because they won’t treat her son. The security guard and I make eye contact and shake our heads a little. But I get it. No one wants to see their child in so much pain.

7. Three hours for them to tell me that there’s nothing in there.

8. Bright sun.

9. He comes home from practice with a sprained ankle. Two foot injuries on one day.

10. Stirring risotto.

Ten.Nine Hundred & Forty-Eight

1. At least it’s Friday.

2. Still no voice.

3. No breakfast. I grab cereal and then head straight for the juices and kombucha.

4. I don’t know. But I do.

5. He tells me I sound strong. I feel strong.

6. So much distraction.

7. I try to replay images from the weekend over and over in my mind so that I can stay tapped into the feeling of that experience.

8. Baby cows.

9. “What do you call a sad coffee?” “I don’t know.” “A despresso.” The waitresses laugh.

10. I want to go back.