Ten.Fifty-Seven

1. Still the first one awake. Making pancakes in my pajamas. Day two without coffee. 

2. Back here with the red brick. 

3. It feels good to see these faces. Good and also sad. The way the tops of the trees meet. How you have to kind of gun it up the hill.  

4. New glasses. New Me.

5. Trying to think of the ways I can make it all make sense.  

6. I tell her that, yeah, I feel like I need a year before I say "yes" to anything else.  

7. I slice the tomatoes and chop the tops off the garlic and place them on a baking sheet. Slide them into the oven to roast. I shift around the baskets, load, and unload. I am finding comfort in domesticity. 

8. Light candles, pour a glass of wine—Argentinian Cabernet, write a newsletter in which I talk about recent failures. It feels good to get it off my chest.

9. Sugar cookies. 

10. I want to not feel this way anymore when they ask me these questions.