Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Twelve
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Hot Krispy Kreme.
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Patiently waiting for sunrise.
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Watching fog slowly rising up from some river down below. Painted sky.
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Somewhere between San Antonio and El Paso: more than 10% over.
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I should be reading instead of scrolling but the scrolling feels like the right kind of diversion even though it’s not making me feel any better.
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Stray cats at the rest area sunning themselves on the walkway.
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Border Patrol. No line like there was on the way in though this time I see the cameras and infrared sensors.
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Familiar faces. I tell her that I really haven’t talked to anyone over this past month.
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We’re all struggling with the same things. Have we all reached our breaking point?
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It’s already after midnight. The time has gone by so quickly.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Eleven
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I don’t want to go. I know I have to, but I don’t want to.
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Finding things everywhere. No time to clean like I usually do. Trying to be slow and methodical.
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One group picture. The dog almost makes it in, too.
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Forgot her backpack.
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This is not insignificant. To think that this is what a Category 2 can do.
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Thinking all the things but not saying anything out loud.
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Where are we? Not one single person in a mask. Not even the people working inside. Not even just hanging around their necks. I keep looking around to see if I am losing my mind.
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“ Had to have high, high hopes for a living / Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing / Didn't have a dime but I always had a vision / Always had high, high hopes…”
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I can only laugh.
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I log into the HOA call late, but just in time to introduce ourselves to the other neighbors and listen to who lost what and what we want to do moving forward to make the entire community more fire safe. But also to express gratitude. Not a bad group.
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Just tired.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Ten
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3:12 am. What is going on?
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Hot coffee. Gray skies. The hurricane is coming.
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“Hurricane on the way in! Hurricane on the way out!”
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We stand in line for 45 minutes. I should have come earlier.
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I look at the food in people’s carts and try not to judge because it is not their fault. I blame the systems in place that limit access and education.
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The gap is widening.
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I try to forget that it’s the last day.
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She says that there are a lot of opportunities for us now. What do I want to ask for? What do I need?
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Flickering light. I shut the computer down.
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The fan looks like it’s going to swirl right off the bracket. The egg is rolling across the patio. Fences blown down.
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But what do I really want?
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Nailed it.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Nine
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3:51 am.
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It sounds like a heavy wind is blowing. I peek out the window but can’t see anything, it’s still so dark.
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Coffee. I will need to make an espresso later today. Just because.
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Conan + Scam Goddess = Great Start to Tuesday.
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We all agree that it doesn’t feel like noon. Maybe it’s the overcast sky. Maybe it’s because none of us are getting any sleep.
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Only two full days left.
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I ride into the wind, try to outrace the rain. Rain.
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The says the water is good and the power should be back soon.
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The power is back.
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I make myself an espresso. I think my milk to espresso ratio is off. But I’m still proud of myself.
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But we do often get the short end of the stick, don’t we?
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They say that the hardest part is coming back inside to all of the quiet.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Eight
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Sunday! The deadline was noon on Sunday! Today is Monday! 3:58 am.
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She asks me if I’m okay and I tell her that I completely blew a deadline and just had to get straight to work. I never miss a deadline. He will tell me that I should have put it in my phone.
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It will be a long day.
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Maybe he is right.
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It is snowing in Flagstaff so we’re back to taking the more southerly route back home. Only two full days left.
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Intention for the rest of the day: Focus. Reduce distraction.
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“I guess there’s gonna be some problems tonight.”
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Why did he park so far away from the store? Oh well, I guess I’ll just get my steps in.
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The thing about going away is that your perspective shifts in surprising ways. And you don’t even have to go away, you just have to create space and time to quiet the mind, ask better questions of yourself.
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Julienne slowly. Jazz playing softly. So much prep, but it will be worth it.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Seven
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Gah. Really need to start going to bed earlier.
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Quiet and overcast. Cool.
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More sweet potatoes and coffee for breakfast. Bacon. Jazz.
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Working through multiple time zones is really messing up my calendar.
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This will just have to do for now.
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Maybe we can turn this ship around after all.
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Picking up a book from Barnes and Noble. Going inside to retrieve it from customer service feels so comforting, so normal, even though she has to pass me my book from beneath the plexiglass.
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Two laps around. The sun is very bright. Should have brought sunglasses.
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What is it about today? The weather? A special event? It must be the weather.
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The letter sounds so vague and that causes another kind of anxiety.
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Sunset. Thin layers of dusty orange and pink and blue.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Six
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So late.
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He solved the problem. The espresso is just fine now.
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Hot water rinse on the glasses from last night. Leftover sweet potatoes for breakfast.
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The morning is going by too fast.
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The sun goes behind the clouds and it’s so pleasant. This is definitely the South. Pastel blue button-up and pastel pink shorts, driving shoes. I laugh to myself. I remember those days.
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I tell him that I realize that I do have to make that choice sooner or later. Definitely sooner. How soon? By the end of the year?
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I buy the cookbook for inspiration. I miss being in the kitchen.
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Switching it up. I’m in the driver seat.
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Everything needs to be re-prioritized.
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A rousing game of Scrabble.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Five
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Earlier than usual. Who’s down here? Oh, she’s getting in her steps.
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I make the coffee. What to eat for breakfast? I’m not hungry.
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But the time is going by so quickly.
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One more plate of beignets.
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Why am I already crying? We just started.
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I stop breathing when I see who is in the first breakout session. So many woman I admire on one screen. Humbled. Awed. Inspired.
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Still crying.
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I knock over my water twice. Tears are still falling. Lightning. Thunder. Rain. The theme of the day is water. Fitting for my emotional state. Power, grace, transition, wisdom, renewal.
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Three kids. How did/does she do it? Lower the expectations.
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“Yeah. Sometimes I want to be a master somm and sometimes I just want to be drunk.”
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Tasting with a legend. I get the country for one, almost the right country for another. But more than anything, this time with her reminded me of what I love about wine. I’d lost the the “why.”
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Early Thanksgiving: Ham and turkey and stuffing, sweet potato casserole, dinner rolls, greens, cranberry sauce. 2009 Dom Perignon; 2011 Beringer Private Reserve because I want him to save the 2012.
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She says to just stay put until the planned power shut off is over. And the city still hasn’t given updates on water. I had a feeling. It’s fine. More time is a good thing. Now we can help them eat all the leftovers.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Four
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Setting an intention to shift the energy.
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Looks like rain.
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Will need to schedule a proper shoot when we get back.
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I don’t want to talk about leaving. The feelings are complicated. What am I going back to? Nothing is going to feel the same. Who is going to make sure all of the children are on time for their Zooms while I am working? Who’s going to handle bedtime so that I can take a shower and go straight to bed?
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I catch myself tearing up throughout the conversations. Gratitude and inspiration and the realization that it’s time to act on your intuition but you’re a little scared and a lot tired and you know that you can’t do your best work from either of those places.
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She basically says that her generation tried to climb the ladder and we younger ones just throwing up ropes. Yeah, it does kinda feel like that.
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Making time to dream.
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I know it’s bad etiquette to eat while on Zoom, but I did not account for the time difference and my needing to eat. Note to self: have a larger snack tomorrow.
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If only I could get this recharge every day. I’d settle for once a quarter.
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Settling on the route back home. Trying to pretend that I am okay about it.
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We take a walk around the neighborhood. It is surprisingly cool. A gentle breeze is blowing through.
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Last minute plans for an early Thanksgiving.
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Seeing the sky behind her as she walks around looking for the cat does kind of make me want to go back home.
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I could just fall over.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Three
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Not as humid as yesterday.
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Going to give this espresso machine a shot. But making a regular pot just in case.
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This is not easy. Need a YouTube video for this.
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Can’t seem to focus. All the systems I used to have in place have dissipated. Need these next two days to focus on something different.
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Bike ride. Singing out loud. White heron strolling through a yard. I smile.
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I tell him that I’ve written something like 100 blog posts for the wineries and I just can’t think of anything else to write about. Then two more come to me. I think these will go over well.
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Yes, I do need to shift.
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She tells us that there is actually power even though the website says we have to wait another week. Just waiting on the test results for the water. But, also there’s another potential power shut off, so we’ll see.
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But at least there are bubbles.
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So many amazing women. These next two days are going to be so good.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & Two
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So sweaty. What happened? “The power is out.”
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I hear the coffee maker sputtering as I head down the stairs.
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So humid. I look at the light coming through the leaves of the palm.
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I finish typing up the blog post. It feels incomplete and not completely polished. Raw. But maybe raw is good.
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Morning pages. Take it slow. There is enough time.
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All these tiny lizards.
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Good thing we had to go to the Wal-mart. I needed to get more steps in.
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What happened to today? Where did it go?
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But can’t we do better? Come on. After all that’s happened in these last months. The irony of making a wine, the proceeds of which benefit organizations providing services to BIPOC, to then name a wine that. We can do better.
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Giggles with her. I’m glad she called. I’m glad I picked up.
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Make your own pizza night.
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They takes these steps really seriously.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred & One
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Still so dark but someone is up. I hear the alarm for the door.
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She’s already downstairs. Getting in her steps. Oh man, they are all very serious about this.
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Big pot of coffee. Leftover roasted potatoes. I want some kind of aioli…something herby or spicy. There’s no ketchup so I settle for Grey Poupon.
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Week four.
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Not feeling so good but how is a gourmandise supposed to cut out all of the good stuff?
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He’s standing there as if he wants to say something to me. I just smile and keep riding and singing.
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She’s literally glowing, beaming. I can’t help but smile.
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I hold the phone to my leg while I ride the bicycle so that it counts the steps. Seven Dua Lipa songs and one Katy Perry for good measure. The equivalent of almost 4,000 steps.
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Yeah, something has to change.
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Another red flag warning.
Ten.One Thousand, Two Hundred
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Light is late to arrive.
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Listen. BLM.
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Bacon, eggs, orange juice, hot coffee. Yelling at the do to stay away from the counter.
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Rubbing his head is therapeutic. The longer we stay here, the more they’ll want a dog too.
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Morning pages.
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Hair day. I set myself up in their bathroom. Instructional videos or Haunting of Bly Manor? Haunting of Bly Manor.
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What are the things that really haunt us?
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“She came here for the comedy.”
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“I really want a dog.”
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Intellection. Input. Learner. Achiever. Discipline.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Nine
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Light.
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What day is today?
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1965? I look at the paper on the back. 1965.
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I am walking quickly. The weather is beautiful. Bright blue skies, wispy clouds. Bright colors. If I was younger or older or had no kids, I’d live on these streets.
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Brunch with Roxy. Horn’s Eatery. A lot of coffee. A lot of coffee.
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Someone replaced the torn American flag.
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No nap. Great British Baking Show.
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We taste the cake. Turns out I put about 5 teaspoons of salt into it by accident. What a way to ruin a birthday.
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We keep tasting little bits of it to test it. No amount of ice cream or caramel drizzle with fix this level of saltiness.
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There was power but now there isn’t power anymore.
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Hanger steak. Baked potatoes. Swiss chard. 2010 Chateau St. Jean Cinque Cepages. 2013 Continuum. The 2010 was good, but the 2013, as young as it is, blows it out of the water. Can’t wait to drink more of this over time.
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That’s not being open minded.
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The Four Agreements:
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Be impeccable with your word.
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Don't take anything personally.
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Don't make assumptions.
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Always do your best.
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Also: reality is relative.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Eight
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Hot and cold and hot and cold. Headache. Nausea. Something I ate?
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Cloudy today. I am grateful for it.
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The post is about the fact that because this resort burned down, many of the hourly workers are no longer employed. There is no work. I get teary-eyed.
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All of the feelings around this are valid.
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I tell him I think it’s stress-related. I hope it’s just stress; that feels more manageable than anything else.
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We take her to the mall to buy gifts for her friends: voodoo doll keychains and pralines and gummy candy in the shape of alligators.
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I wake up from my nap to find a box of champagne. It could be worse. It could be so much worse. Grab the bits of joy when you can.
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Could it just be in my head?
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I know this feeling.
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We spend a few hours on the phone just catching up. I needed the laughter and the realness.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Seven
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5:09. Still a bit of headache lingering.
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Should have thawed out the bacon last night.
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Write it all down. So much more to learn. Look at the bigger picture. Be rooted in the present but
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“It’s always going to be a balance between science and art.” - Phil Long, TTG Podcast
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Turn the coffee back on.
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I decide to get the New Balance in navy blue and rose gold because it really is too hot to be riding my bike in these boots.
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Impulse buy on the tiny lego sets. Long wait. Long lines. An exercise in patience.
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This kid.
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Headache.
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People say I look like her but I don’t see it. But then my daughter stands next to her and I think they look so much alike. If she looks like her, and people say she looks like me, then I also look like her. Some kind of math problem.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Six
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I hear the dog’s nails on the stairs.
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Two pears, a glass of orange juice. Water. Coffee.
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I step outside. The air is cool. The colors of sunrise. I had forgotten how pretty the morning sky is here.
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Remembering that I’m likely to blow things out of proportion right now.
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Afternoon ride. More Dua Lipa. Slightly cooler than yesterday. Blue heron. Black and yellow butterfly. Roofers.
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It feels good to have done something normal like browse a library. I forgot to wear gloves so I try not to touch anything. There is no Didion. How is there no Didion?
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Learning something new.
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A book. Alice Munro and three bars of chocolate. Three bars! And the collection that I didn’t pick from the library.
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Sushi.
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Very hot bath. Alice Munro. One whole bar of chocolate. Gratitudes.
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Five
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But wait. Can I go back to the dream where I’m sitting next to Beyoncé?
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It is entirely too warm for this outfit but it’s the middle of October, and I want to feel like it’s October.
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I shouldn’t have fed him the pear. Now he will follow me around all the time.
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I quickly realize that I’ve added more hours to my day by starting at the same time, though I’m two hours ahead of everyone back home.
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Refreshing Gmail to see if there is an update. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Trying not to care, even though you do.
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I planned to only ride for 10 minutes but I end up listening to 8 Dua Lipa songs which means I’ve done about 4 miles. 4 miles on the bike in jeans and boots.
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Organizing folders on the desktop.
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Feeling the urge to write.
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He’s too smart for his own good.
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I take some water and my book out to the patio to enjoy while I grill the chicken. Quiet. Breeze. Lizards running up the brick.
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But I’m trying not to open all the good stuff. He tells me to grab a bottle of Novicium and I say no to that too. But, then again, what are we saving it for? Maybe for moments like these? I find a bottle of Nicolas Feuillatte brut rosé.
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Being asked a question, answering that question, and then being questioned about the answer. Then supporting that answer with proof only to be questioned about the proof provided. Would this have happened if I were white? Or a man? Or older?
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Four
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Still quiet.
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Coffee and orange juice and raisin bran. A little bit of sunshine.
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I’m late to the trend, but I can still get behind it.
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Typing furiously while listening to a podcast. Tapping my feet. More coffee. This should probably be my last cup.
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I know what I know and I also know that I don’t know and that’s important. Maybe the only thing that really matters.
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I take a quick bike ride on my lunch break. So quiet. Blue skies. Fluffy clouds. Humidity.
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Lack of communication breeds inefficiencies and unnecessary urgencies.
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It’s good to see her face.
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He shows me what the PG&E alert says. “Estimated Restoration October 31, 2020.” “Take a deep breath,” says Dad. Oh yes, I stopped breathing.
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Stags’ Leap 2013 Petite Sirah and 2014 Cabernet Sauvignon from Coombsville. Drink the good stuff, but we do need to get some wine down here. Note to self: ask Roxy for best local wine shop.
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She says to just let myself be in that space where the focus is on creating the world we want. And she reminds me to rest.
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She tells me that her hair and eyebrows fall out during extreme moments of stress and I say to myself, “that makes sense given the circumstances of the last several months.”
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What are the things I need to do to support myself through this time?
Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Three
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Daylight.
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Rainbows on walls. Glistening crystals. Blue sky beyond.
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I forgot to soak the beans last night.
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She asks to watch “Twilight Zone” and I feel like I’ve done something right as a parent.
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I’m pretty certain that my eyebrows are falling out. Yes. Very certain.
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I ride in circles, feel the breeze against the tops of my shoulders. The colors here. So quiet in the neighborhood. I do like the quiet.
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I look at my eyebrows again. I realize that I need to be sure to set up therapy appointments for myself. I am feeling the feeling of feeling.
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I hear the smash. And feel my chest tighten. Let out a big sigh. I hear the guy behind us saying something to him and then some banging on the car.
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Her face. I can’t see her smile but I know she’s smiling because she’s always smiling. The chips are thin and crispy and hot. Three salsas - one, carrot habanero; first the heat and then the slow creep of heat in the back of the throat. One order of flautas, so beautiful you don’t want to touch them. So hot you can’t eat them. But they smell so good you are willing to risk the mess and the risk of burnt tongue.
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Chicken still cooking. Seeing my aunt and all of my uncles on the screen at the same time makes me smile. My uncles are so funny.