Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Five
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Finally a little relief.
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This will be a long one.
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The thing is that I don’t have very much of a poker face.
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I just need there to be more order.
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I told myself I would skip the gluten today, but this scone is perfection.
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I make a joke about my daughter being twelve years old and making a drop-in daycare center in our office.
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I tell him that it was another one of those days with people telling me lots of everything and feeling like I have no way of helping.
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I get a glass of rosé and sit down with the notebook and the printouts. Our table slowly starts to fill. Strategy session. The last one for the year.
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We say what needs to be said. And there were times when we thought we should have said the hard things sooner. But honestly, the timing was just right.
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But now I really feel like I need a vacation.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Four
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Dog. Again.
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The in-between.
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Too many mistakes. Too late.
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The moment of silence feels particularly long. I am okay with it.
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I really did try to keep this from happening. As the words are coming from my lips, I know I should not be saying this. But still, it is an apology and also a vent.
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How long does one get to escape the consequences of their duplicities? To shove the blame of the chaos onto someone else?
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More and more and more meetings. Very little work.
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Of course, as soon as I cancel, they want to come. It is human nature to want what you can’t have.
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More cookbooks.
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It isn’t perfect. Nothing is.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Three
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The dog. What is it barking at?
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Is this worth the fight?
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I reckon the idea of quitting in person is way scarier than actually committing to the practice.
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I stand up to leave and then mention something about it being nice to know you’re not alone.
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I really need to buy some more summer clothes. And shoes. And, and, and, and.
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Maybe everyone thinks I have more influence than I actually do.
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I sit in the back seat and watch the minutes creep up and up and up. We crawl south through the valley. Just need to get through Napa.
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Though the sun is bright, there is a cool breeze blowing in off the bay. This city has so much potential. Or, maybe it has reached its potential. Or maybe I need to rethink “potential.”
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An easy win.
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Better than expected.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-Two
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I like this no alarm thing.
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I forgot about the 8:30 football and 9:00 basketball camps. So, it looks like we’re still having those kinds of mornings.
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Finally coffee. I eat the extra breakfast sausage left on their plates.
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Move slowly through the list.
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I remind myself that I get to set the tone for the day.
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It wasn’t meant to be for this year. Maybe next year. After they’ve tasted more success.
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Change takes time.
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But sometimes frozen lasagna just hits.
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None of them show up. But at least there are these three. We run them through some exercises, foot work, 1 versus 1 and 3 versus 2. There is promise here. We made the best of it.
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Ha. A recommendation that we disband. She just wants us off her back. She hasn’t figured out that we’re never going away? Not until she’s gone?
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Change takes time. And stamina. We’ve got stamina.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety-One
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A little bit of bah-ing from the goats.
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Slept in so long didn’t even get a chance to do my hair before she arrives. But, neither here nor there.
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Today, I feel strong and balanced, even though my mind is thinking of a thousand other things.
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The coolness of the caves. Placing bottles into the shipper, adding an extra as a gift. I do miss wine.
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Squeezing in time to daydream.
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I need to block this from my phone.
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Always a few laughs during family call. Not much drama these days, and that’s really a good thing.
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A French Dip without the French bread. An odd choice.
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I stick her bottles into the rack. Time to place another order.
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What systems am I building to support the life I want to live?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Ninety
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Not sure when I became the kind of person that turns off alarms.
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Just basketball.
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Clean rugs in the car.
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It is already so warm. I am only sitting in the shade and reading and I can feel a thin line of perspiration forming along my hairline.
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The things you hear with four teenage boys in the car.
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I tell them that some of them have the right idea. The sooner they start dating and breaking up, the sooner they run out of girls to choose from. It’s a small pool.
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We sit in the car between each game for the air conditioning.
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What’s admirable is that the boys never give up.
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But when the season starts, it’s going to feel so easy compared to what they experienced in this summer league.
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I delete Instagram from my phone and think again about what I really want this life to feel and look like. What would be a better use of my time?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Nine
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First day.
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Last glass of orange juice. Really need to figure out my breakfast situation.
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Coffee in the tall tumbler while sorting through emails.
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I cannot hear every word, but something is happening and it’s not a good thing. And there’s nothing I can do at the moment to fix it.
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Can’t stop sweating.
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Noticing a theme.
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Solution-oriented.
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Too full from lunch to eat dinner. Over-stuffed. I blame emotions.
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The Bald and the Beautiful.
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I so badly want to sit outside and read in the glow of evening light. But it is too hot and I can not find the right extension cord to blow the leaves off the deck and furniture. But there will be other days for it. Just not today.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Eight
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Today is the day.
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The early heat is a reminder that it is indeed officially summer - it’s the last day of school.
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He needs “nice” clothes for the day. I take his measurements and try not to talk about his height again, but he is getting so tall.
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I ask them to hurry so that I can take the picture before it’s time to get in the car. The littlest one is still getting his shoes on. The big one kneels down and ties the shoe for him and reminds him that he’s going to be in middle school next year so he needs to get faster. But he says it so nicely, so kindly. I am doing something right.
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Loveski bagels and talks about sweaters and should we start a little free library in the cafeteria?
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Never enough time.
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Maybe, one day, I will stop having three jobs.
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She tells him that he looks like but he can’t hear her through the ear pods.
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He did it. We made it through. And I think things are looking up.
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Fried olives and meatballs and Brussel sprouts and burrata toast and halibut over risotto. Good conversation.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Seven
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Birds, birds, birds.
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I remember that she needs things in order to bake the treats for her class.
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I get back home and unload the milk, the boxes of brownie mix, the orange juice. No eggs.
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I make my way down the stairs and see a carton on the ground. We talk through the window. He is in quarantine like almost everyone I know.
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Stress sweat from pivoting on the fly. Frustrated because maybe it shouldn’t have been this hard but all of this is just a learning moment. What will I do differently next time?
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Shoot snacks down to the gate house.
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Thankfully, we are in the shade. The ceremony is quick - the benefit of being in such a small school They call the names in his class first. No blazer because they were supposed to be in their tye-dye. No more elementary school.
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I can barely keep my eyes open.
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No air in the office.
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The first time in a long time that all five of us are sitting down together for dinner - and talking. So ready for summer.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Six
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The loud hum of some machine.
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Emotional hangover.
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The only way to work it out is to write it over and over and over again.
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I think of how she said to not be attached to the outcome. Do what you know needs to be done, but be prepared for the undesired outcome.
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Relieved.
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The problem is that it never seems like the right time to ask.
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I am unsure of what to do with the request. I suppose I just help, even though I know there is probably no way of shifting the outcome. Even though I know they are probably already tired of seeing my name in their inboxes.
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I hear the sound of tears in his voice and know immediately what has happened: his fresh french fries are on the floor of the car.
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4-1 Rangers. 4-3 Rangers. 5-4 Napa. 7-5 Rangers.
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It is after 8 o’clock and the sky is now a deep and dusty blue. The silhouettes of the mountain ranges loom high above. I think of how lucky we are, even with all of this.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Five
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In the dream, we are arguing with one another, first in front of a classroom of high schoolers, then in front of the principal. Really need to not dream about this ever again.
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Later than usual but necessary.
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Fuel gauge low. Living on the edge. How much of this is due to the incline of the car? Can I make it to and from school? The car tells me I still have 42 miles until empty. Do I trust it?
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Long, long list and three very large cups of coffee.
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Humor.
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It’s this thing but also other things and that’s why I am crying.
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Lunch outside.
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Three COVID messages in one day is three too many. Can we just get through school?
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He shows us all of the Zoom backgrounds his school district created for each month: Pride, AAPI, Women’s History Month, Black History Month. He also has his pronouns. No one is perfect, but I am ready for this change.
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Words of encouragement plus a few laughs.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Four
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Is that the sound of rain?
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I float in and out of consciousness. There is nowhere for me to be but right here. This is what I love about a metal roof.
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Still listening to the water drip drop through the trees.
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Finally together again. Doesn’t matter that it is virtual. Soul fed.
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No one has eaten lunch yet and it’s almost time to go. Uniform has not been washed. He asks me if he knows where his shirt is.
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I stare out the window while I eat popcorn. The vineyards are green and lush. The clouds are still low, hugging the tops of the mountains.
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And no cleats.
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Surprisingly warm and humid. Bad plays. No energy. It’s like they don’t even want to be there.
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Everyone needs boundaries.
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We all know the reason why it looks like this.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Three
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How much longer can I lay here and still be ready for yoga?
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Soft gray light, yoga mat, small cup of coffee, jar full of water. Today we are moving through the chakras.
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She always needs to push my shoulders down and back. I carry so much in this upper part of my body.
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Twenty-four days.
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Slow, slow Saturday. The first slow Saturday in so many months. I don’t even want to poison it by turning on the vacuum cleaner or wiping down a mirror.
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They keep sending pictures of the foods they are enjoying. I find it humorous. I also think of what I have to look forward to when my children are also grown: going wherever I want, when I want, and eating cinnamon rolls for breakfast without regard or regrets.
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Sparkling wine and fried chicken while waiting for the little league home run derby to begin.
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Am I being self-righteous?
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“She wants a lot of sprinkles.”
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None of my children are home yet and it’s after 10:30 at night. What are we doing?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-Two
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TGIF.
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This morning, the song almost makes me cry. I blame it on fatigue.
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She asks me if I am a coach of something. Says she saw me at the softball game and wasn’t sure if it was me. Her daughter is on the team. I feel bad for not noticing her in the stands. It’s a context thing.
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Not sure how to get around this.
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Is it necessary or is it about control? Is it going over their head? No. Just doing the right thing.
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I’m telling him because I care.
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After I tell him why I needed a meeting, he asks me a broader question. I try to be diplomatic in my language. Try to explain that people react to fear, uncertainty, lack of clarity, and stress in many different ways. And sometimes it looks like resistance, standoffishness, anger. I’m trying not to take any of it personally.
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My job is really to make everyone else’s job easier.
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BLT with cheddar and red onions on wheat bread. Dill pickle chips.
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Reading between the lines.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-One
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Eyes flutter open. Not quite ready to get out of bed. I hear something rustling against the window. No. Nothing can make that sound against the windows up here. It is an earthquake. No one wakes up.
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Yeah. The braids will be back this weekend.
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I send my round of follow-up emails from yesterday’s meeting. I am still just as confused as before.
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Am I freaking out for no reason?
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Prepared, but not.
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Isn’t is all about self-compassion?
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My text was confusing and still she knocks it out of the park. She sets down the kids pb & j, a container of dill pickles, as well as dill pickle chips. I chuckle. But really, my heart is warmed by the thoughtfulness.
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I tell her that the downside of back-to-back-to-back meetings is that my brain feels more scattered. It’s hard to regroup and recalibrate.
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The week was short but has felt so long.
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I watch the game on the app while listening to the football coach talks about the program. Doubles, triples. They will lose - by a lot.
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Where is the place for an appropriate release?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty
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Ah, the warmth of summer creeping back in.
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I listen to the bird song while I lie awake in the soft light of morning. It is harder and harder to get up these days.
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Homemade chia seed pudding topped with stone fruit salad. Water. Craving orange juice.
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Should really get a nicer backpack.
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Hard to fake it.
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In so many words, it’s about boundaries.
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I tell her that after freelancing for so long and from being burned by a past employer I’ve learned the importance of having very clear boundaries.
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Calculated risks.
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He keeps saying this one thing that is really irritating and I speak to its absurdity. And I know I sound like I’m being petty, but sometimes in these meetings, it feels like they’re insulting the parents’ intelligence.
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You can find data to support almost anything, but it doesn’t mean it’s right.
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But who really can resist the fried olives?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventy-Nine
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Those minutes when the birds are the loudest right before the sun rises.
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Cold.
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I check the weather to confirm my decision. I am going to need to change.
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I look for the fox but they are nowhere to be found.
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Yeah, I really gotta put the braids back in. Too much work to only pull it back into a bun.
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So much psychology.
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The more we talk, the longer the to-do list becomes. But it’s a generative conversation, good questions, a few solutions.
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Not another one.
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He mentions that I’ve been to every game. I remind him that half of the softball team plays basketball. And isn’t this what we should do as coaches? Support the entire athletics program when we can? And isn’t it what the community does? Supports one another?
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Each of his at bats is better and better. This was really all he needed - a few full games to see the ball and find his timing. There is always next year.
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Tied in the 6th. Tied in the 7th. Tied in the 8th. Bottom of the 9th, base hit brings one home for the win. Season isn’t over for him yet. Championship game in two days.
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Another post-game meal at Gott’s. Plus wine. Plus laughter.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventy-Eight
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What did they say? What did they say? They were the perfect words. Like out of a movie. I need to remember what they said in the dream.
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I gather all of the materials in the bathroom and sit down but then my mind.
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Solicit input.
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I take my journal out to the front porch and sit in the dappled light. I find the collection of short stories by Alice Munro in the car and take it back to the bench, use my sweater as a pillow and lay flat on back to read. I can hear voices but the words are indistinguishable.
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Large vanilla milkshake with rainbow sprinkles.
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I pull out everything again, and take a seat. Then change my mind. Again.
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Head full of what-ifs and whys. What is it that I want? Are these reasonable expectations considering the circumstances? What is there to be afraid of?
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Still not yet dinner time. A slow, slow day. Gratitudes.
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We exit out the lower door and see a fox on the stone wall. It barks/screeches at us. Sounds more like a cat. We stare at it. It stares at us opening its small mouth to screech at us again. It is a young fox, and not afraid. We stare each other down.
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What is the meaning of anything?
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventy-Seven
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He asks me to close the window. It is just a little too cool.
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I slice all 6 pounds of stone fruit and herbs, thumbs red with cherry juice.
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Coffee.
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I take in a little bit of sun while waiting for the right time to leave. I have him join me and sign his documents for football. He doesn’t think he wants to play. “Well, let’s just get everything in place.”
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Always finding something new.
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Back in the old neighborhood. It feels familiar and yet so different. There are things I miss: space and the fruit stands and the friendship.
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Home just in time for the evening glow.
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One movie finished. Braids out.
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Effie Gray.
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Different.
Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventy-Six
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Still out of coffee.
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I tell myself I’m going to take it easy and do more child’s pose in between. But I dig deep and find some energy.
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Star pose as I watch the oak leaves dance in the wind.
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Red Hawk perched atop the blade of fan, the morning light bakes it glow. The lush green of the vines below.
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The car ride is quiet and easy. Quick transfer. Head back home. Rarely am I ever here on the weekend, watching tourists trying to order out of the pick-up window.
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But what’s the next step.
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Where’s The Twilight Zone?
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Can’t fight the fatigue.
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There are worse views.
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I just need more time to daydream.