Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Seven

1. Up so late and I am still up so early.

2. Barely half an inch long.

3. I clean the whiteboard and make the lists while I listen to her talk about her screenplay. I already feel better. Maybe I just needed more space.

4. I start with Madeleine Peyroux and then realize that this is not going to get me anywhere today. Let’s go with 90s Smash Hits.

5. Sometimes a little bit of nostalgia does the body good.

6. He says that I look happy, that something has shifted. I blame it on the music. Or, maybe it’s the whiteboard. I just needed to get it all out of my head.

7. I’m trying to maintain my cool. Basically I want to fangirl. I manage to maintain my composure. I’ll get to see her soon!

8. Just help me move on from this, Richard.

9. Do I have the ability to determine what is actually an effective use of my time? Will effort on this task actually generate revenue?

10. I do miss working there.

11. He’s drinking 19 Crimes and we’re drinking Eroica. We tell him to please save the 2012 Beringer Private Reserve. Quarantine can’t last forever.

12. Treehouse.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Six

1. Yep.

2. He’s right. I shouldn’t look at my phone right away. Must get myself an old-fashioned clock.

3. Shoot. I forgot about the little snail on the hose. The Early Girls are turning red. Something is eating the leaves of the tomato plants but I don’t have the energy to investigate.

4. Coffee. They eat donuts, I drink celery juice. Mostly I’m not hungry, which is odd. I am out of sync.

5. Can’t focus.

6. I think I am making mistakes but I also can’t tell because I am confused. No organization.

7. The shifting of language.

8. Maybe, once this is all over, we will get to Hawaii.

9. Cognitive dissonance.

10. I stare at him and the baby in the cart. Mostly I stare I at the baby. I remember when my babies were babies like that. Things were harder, but also simpler. Things are still hard, but not as simple.

11. I knew from the jump she was my kind of people. I tell her I can’t wait to have her over for dinner.

12. It takes at least two years. I get a little excited because, maybe, I am finally finding my community.

13. I tell him to remind me to call them tomorrow. It’s been two days already.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Five

1. I look into my own eyes. What do I see?

2. Feels like a morning for celery juice.

3. I water. No new tomatoes. The okra seems to grow so slowly. I move the bell peppers to a part of the patio that will get some shade. This experiment was a bit of a failure.

4. The snails are moving so slowly today. Maybe the heat?

5. If only I wasn’t so particular.

6. I remind myself that we have a tendency of doing things that don’t make sense to anyone else but us. But that’s okay. I think.

7. Where is everyone? Oh, wait. We are early. But I thought we were going to be late. It’s funny to me, not so much to her.

8. He explains all of the reasons why they are leaving, and for a split second I wonder if we are doing it all wrong. But then again, we do the things that don’t make sense and sometimes it works out for us.

9. She offers to send me a lavender essence to help with the anxiety.

10. He assures me that he’s not going to fail me.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Four

1. Still dark. Still tired. Why am I awake?

2. Blue-gray light of morning.

3. Coffee. I’m not hungry, but if I want to drink this coffee, I need to eat something.

4. This Gala apple tastes sweet.

5. Her face. Seeing her face is so good on this Sunday morning. Yes, more of this, please.

6. I write it all out, give myself a pep talk. I still feel the anxiety. What else can I do to put myself at ease?

7. My bike tires are a little flat but I keep going. It’s already so hot; it’s just now 10am. The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle. I miss doing this. Yes, more of this please.

8. Wash day for her. Tears, but not as many as usual.

9. “You’re afraid of making mistakes, aren’t you?” “Yes.”

10. I think it’s just the sense of privacy and the quiet. I think we can make it work. I just. I can see it.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Three

1. Hot. Already.

2. What is it about a freshly made bed that makes everything seem so better?

3. Why do I make biscuits when no one else eats them? I take a hot one right off the pan and slice it open; a thin pat of butter, a thin smear of plum jam.

4. I thank her for the conversation. I need to have more conversations like these, with people who are asking themselves deeper questions.

5. What would it feel like to do the bare minimum? What is the problem with doing the bare minimum if the minimum is enough?

6. But today I do have time for her to tell me all the things.

7. Go with the gut. Gut says, “treehouse.”

8. Golden hills studded with green tree-tops and black cows. Wide skies.

9. 2017 Moric Blaufränkisch, cheeseburger, duck fat fries, cool breezes, people watching. I like the slowness and the quiet of everything but also know that this kind of slow is not good for anyone’s business.

10. Ruelle-Pertois Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru Brut.

11. I seem to be the only worried about this. But this is not my burden.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Two

1. I keep my eyes closed but try to see how much light is in the room. Still very dark; still too early to get up.

2. I choose the silky shirt for no other reason than it feels good and light and perfect for 100 degrees.

3. Handmade earrings.

4. So many fat, old snails. Wide bodies and big shells. Slow nibbles.

5. I was supposed to journal before I sat down to work. I eat the last bit of cobbler with my coffee. So completely satisfying.

6. Nothing is making any sense.

7. I think back to our conversation and how we talked about the importance of having side projects. It’s been a while since I felt so excited about work. Yes, more of this, please.

8. I listen to him talk and get emotional. These are things I believe in too and it’s a good reminder that there are people out there doing the right thing.

9. Something is wrong.

10. Compassion doesn’t quell the anger or the anxiety.

11. As if you needed confirmation.

12. Choosing to close the door on your own accord because you’re doing the right thing. Hold steady and remember your priorities. Patience. Patience.

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & One

1. Sleepy start.

2. Teeny-tiny bodies and shells all over the grass.

3. I wake up and realize that there is actually no rush. There is plenty of time and it will all happen when it’s supposed to happen.

4. Being with small children delight me. I remember my own at that age and how much has changed. The perspective that comes with the passing of time.

5. Sun on the skin.

6. “It’s like someone rifling through your desk.”

7. Take stock.

8. I run the steam mop over the dried-up globs of chocolate ice cream. Tillamook Mudslide, maybe?

9. Dinner might have been too rich: duck fat potatoes and creamed spinach? But so tasty.

10. What would she say? She’d say, “Get clear about what you want. Don’t worry about the how. Just decide and get on with doing it. Look at all that you’ve done so far. The next thing is possible.”

Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred

1. Humidity still hanging in the air.

2. Too many tiny snails. I will tread lightly. Sorry to anyone I smush on my trek across the lawn to water the tomatoes.

3. Salad for breakfast.

4. Already in pain and it’s not yet 7 in the morning.

5. Tunnel vision.

6. I worry about the length of time in the car and being away from the desk for so long. It feels like a disruption in my schedule though it’s probably a good idea for me to be out of the house.

7. Yes. Let’s do it.

8. I think it’s starting to sink in.

9. I got them. Got them so good they fell on the floor.

10. “Look closely at the present you are constructing: it should look like the future you are dreaming.” ― Alice Walker

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety—Nine

1. A random vacation day on a Tuesday is a genius idea.

2. Really red tomatoes.

3. I move slowly, like a snail.

4. 100 percent distance learning to start the school year. This is not surprising but it is a little unsettling. School starts in 20 days.

5. A practice in setting boundaries. Clearly communicating needs and expectations.

6. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m excited about it.

7. I am reminded that environment does matter to me. I am sensitive to the energy of a space. This space feels good.

8. There are different types of tired. This is the good kind. I tell him that the approved rewrite is a big relief. That today felt good. That I feel more excited than stressed.

9. I laugh. They laugh. We haven’t spoken since Sunday. They are spoiled by my new COVID-communication routine. Sunday was only two days ago. But, what is time?

10. I wish I could have a little bit of his optimism all the time.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Eight

1. It’s still dark. That’s not good.

2. I promise myself to go slow.

3. Leftover salmon and greens with a dollop of butter. I wish the rest of the family was as excited about savory breakfasts as I am.

4. Mirror, mirror, mirror, label.

5. I tell her what I’m thinking is the next thing. She approves. She’s the only one who would understand.

6. I can hear it in the voice. But it’s not as though I really needed any more confirmation.

7. Two phones means accidental double-booking. Didn’t I say I needed to rest?

8. I eat 4 figs while standing in the sun. This feels a little bit like heaven.

9. I drizzle champagne vinegar and olive oil over the tomatoes and feta and realize that it’s 2:03pm and I’m just now eating lunch because even though I know that over-working is a function of capitalism and white supremacy, I haven’t decolonized myself enough just yet. Like, I overworked to compensate for making someone else feel uncomfortable.

10. I work on the edits while sitting in the bleachers. The sun is beating against the back of my neck. Two dogs are barking. This kid is not 6 feet away from me.

11. Who’s going to massage this knot out of my shoulder? I can barely sit in this position anymore without stinging pain.

12. On deadline. I remember when I used to dream of saying that. “I’m on a deadline.”

13. All of this is hard, but so much of it is exactly what I wanted.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Seven

1. No alarm. Just the light filling the room.

2. Cobbler or Raisin Bran?

3. Coffee is weak. Not enough grounds or too much water. You would think that after 3 months of French press we would have figured it out by now. But every coffee is different.

4. We decide on Sebastopol. Will it be worth the drive? Yes. Yes, it will.

5. I can’t wait to meet her in real life. I might consider breaking all of my quarantine rules to hug her.

6. Is it silly that the shape of the hills makes me want to cry? No, it’s not silly at all.

7. Coconut, walnut, raisin tart. Worth $6. I’d pay &10 if it was hot and came with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Everyone here is respectful with the masks.

8. On the corner, 7 protesters with signs: “Black Lives Matter,” “Defund the Police.” We honk our horn and they, and we, raise our fists.

9. The entire wall of windows is covered in BLM signs.

10. A statue: a black hand holding a red heart, at the bottom: “Black Lives Matter.” This little town is surprising me.

11. Which is to say that too much of energy is spent trying to determine where I might feel safe. These visible displays of support are important. I can relax. I just hope they really mean it.

12. Pax Piquette.

13. Still one of my favorite dinners.

14. Still tired, but more aware of what I should be doing in the world.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Six

1. Still groggy. Still tired.

2. He leaves the room but remembers to leave the ocean sounds on so that I can continue to rest. But, I’m already awake.

3. Bright, bright sun.

4. No traffic. Golden-brown hills, blue sky, sagebrush. I still don’t know the proper names of things.

5. More confusion, less clarity.

6. Heading south on 29 I see two Black Lives Matter signs and that makes me feel a little better.

7. He surprises me. He tells us about the local baseball and softball scene. His kids are about the same ages as ours. He’s nice. But this one won’t be it.

8. I slice the peaches and apricots and apriums and cook them in the butter with a little bit of flour and a dash of cinnamon.

9. Food as resistance.

10. Not there yet.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Five

1. Friday? Yes, finally Friday.

2. Cool breeze. The cover for the grill is in the grass. I step carefully to avoid the snails so that I can check on the tomatoes.

3. I am setting the intention to move slowly today.

4. I listen to her speak as I make the bacon and the eggs and finish building out the pages. I’ve missed the softness of her voice.

5. Laundry.

6. We are both feeling the same. For whatever reason, we are both particularly glad that it’s Friday. Both wondering about what will happen next.

7. I give up. I put the puzzle back into the box. Maybe Frida Kahlo will be easier.

8. I grab a thin blanket from the chest and lay down on the bed. King of the Hill. The 8-year-old was supposed to be here. He’s the one that requested snuggle time.

9. I wake up to the sound of him pulling a stick of string cheese out of the wrapper.

10. The 12-year-old suggests that we buy a whole wheel of the Boont Corner. I’m not opposed. 6 oz is never enough. I can just imagine a little piece of it atop a thin cracker and dollop of the plum jam.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Four

1. This week’s schedule is a little off.

2. I slide the foundation onto my face. I haven’t worn make-up in 100-and-something days. It feels very unnecessary and yet, what is the protocol these days? You know what? Nothing is ever going to be the same. I can let this go.

3. Where is the time going?

4. This one looks particularly old. I think, just like a human being, the snails show their age. The older, bigger ones have darkers shells and their bodies are darker, more opaque.

5. Cold coffee. I keep drinking it.

6. Kale caesar.

7. The ceilings are tall and the walls are a rough wood panelling and I didn’t think I would like it, but I absolutely love it. A tree house. The treehouse. But maybe it’s not quite right for the children.

8. The smell of rosemary on a gentle breeze.

9. This one thing could be the deal-breaker.

10. There is still so much to learn. And that is what’s so exciting.

11. What can I do? I can cook. I prep slowly. Because sometimes dinner is just going to be at 7:30 no matter how hard you try to keep your routine. The slow chopping, the flipping of the bacon, the shredding of the cheese—all of this grounds me.

12. I lean my head against the glass, feel the tiny bumps on my shoulders that keep spreading down to my elbows. Stress? Diet? A combination of both?

13. I don’t want to break the streak.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Three

1. I don’t remember falling asleep. The last thing I remember is telling him that he needed to clean his room before I bought another remote. The remote didn’t walk away. 

2. Lists. 

3. What else is required? Courage.

4. Grits. Sugar and butter. Maybe, one day, he will not be allergic anymore, and I can get back to making shrimp and grits. 

5. I check again and again to make sure I’m not missing anything. FOMO. 

6. But what am I going to wear tomorrow? 

7. I take a break and step outside. I keep my feet bare. I like to feel the heat of the concrete. It is quiet. 

8. But why is he saying it like I didn’t say it five weeks ago? 

9. We open up the 2019 Trois Noix Chardonnay. The first thing we both say is “acid.” Acid is everything. Not everything, but one of the most important things. 

10. I make her cry, and I don’t mean to make people cry. But the tears are the good kind of tears, I hope.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-Two

1. I still have trouble remembering the days.

2. Birdsong.

3. There is a predictable rhythm to my work at the moment that is satisfying.

4. I know I am working slower than normal because I’m trying to listen so closely to what is being said. But what they are saying is so important and so necessary to hear.

5. There’s that sharp pain in my left shoulder again. Too much sitting in front of the screen.

6. I tell her she needs to drop a zero.

7. He asks me if I want to go for a ride. Yes. I have to take a break. I’ve been working for 5 hours straight already.

8. When you finally meet someone face-to-face - virtually - and you talk like you’ve known each other for years. But then you remember that you indeed have known one another for years. The internet is a strange place.

9. I remind him that when you’re stressed out and need to do a lot of things that you have to take care of yourself. Food is fuel and I need a lot of it. So, yes. I need a real vegetable with this chicken.

10. I need to rest.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety-One

1. I turn my head towards the window to look for the light.

2. What is happening?

3. Peach. Lemon bar. Bacon. Scrambled egg. Coffee.

4. I’m just procrastinating.

5. Softer.

6. The day is getting away from me.

7. One perfectly red Beefsteak tomato.

8. This is going to be good. Really good. Really, really good.

9. I settle myself on the bleachers and squint in the sun. I laugh at him. I am grateful for him and the way he manages the girls. For her first time playing sports, I am glad he is her coach.

10. Pizza. Again. Raft Weed Farms Syrah. 2014 Trois Noix Cabernet Sauvignon. Sun reflecting off the window into my eye. He reminds me that we always manage to do things that people tell us we can’t do.

11. They took it well.

Ten.One Thousand & Ninety

1. There will be duck today.

2. Waffles with butter and some plum jam. Coffee. Water.

3. I didn’t plan well enough for today.

4. He asks me if I want to go for a ride, and I agree to come along because I really shouldn’t be working today. Not on this. Not on my birthday.

5. Zooming in the car.

6. I feel like I should be more excited than I am.

7. The piece is written, but it’s not quite there. I send it to her anyway. It’s just not as dramatic as the first one. But it’s done. We still

8. This conversation feels very adult. But it’s good to be thinking this far ahead.

9. This one smells like smoked meat. This one smells like a can of black olives. This one smells like tar. Wild.

10. He asks me why I’m not more excited. I tell him that I just am not sure exactly what’s going on. I’m tired. I’m in shock. I’m not sure how I feel.

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Nine

1. Today is a new day.

2. Out of coffee. Nespresso, it is. The apple fritter is underdone.

3. Computer and notes outside. I procrastinate by tip-toeing around the snails to water the plants. They cut back the birds of paradise, and they are already sprouting again.

4. I need to get back to the ocean.

5. I'm not sure how one could be missing their softball clothes when one hasn't worn them in 100 days. Like, where else could they be?

6. I sit on the grass in the shade and write. Prickly. Sunshine and blue skies. They cheer each other on. I had forgotten how sweet this little team is.

7. "I like Brentwood, but it's starting to get a little uppity."

8. All of this sunshine. The colors seem so vibrant today.

9. Never underestimate the power of a long drive and a loud stereo. "I found solace in the strangest place/Way in the back of my mind/I saw my life in a stranger's face/And it was mine…"

10. Table full of wine, a familiar face.

Ten.One Thousand & Eighty-Eight

1. I know I’m awake, but I don’t want to get up.

2. Weight.

3. Waiting.

4. Double-check to make sure everything is how it’s supposed to be.

5. Think outside of the box. Know what you can and can’t control.

6. I just don’t feel it, though.

7. When you’re halfway through stuffing the blanket inside of the duvet cover and then realize that the duvet cover is inside out, but you’ve already come too far to start all over again.

8. I can see it on his face. I begin to wonder if this was the right choice. If we hadn’t moved, he’d still have his job. Or, if we hadn’t moved and he had lost his job, at least our network would have been stronger, and maybe we could have figured it out. At least I’d have someone to talk to about all of this. No. This is where we belong. It hasn’t even been two years yet. Good things take time.

9. Guns N’ Roses, “Sweet Child O’ Mine.” Suddenly I’m back at Wake Forest in the dimly lit DKE house, or the Sigma Pi lounge, or the Sigma Chi lounge. Gray New Balance and denim skirts and Dave Matthew’s Band in her late 90s Lexus SUV. Driving alone with tears in my eyes up and down Silas Creek Parkway. Leaving.

10. We’ll just start again tomorrow. We can do hard things.