Ten.Sixty-Eight

1. When the moon is full it illuminates the bathroom and this morning it is so dark and the moon is so brighf. 

2. Maybe it's because it's sitting so close to the hill that it looks so big. But from the kitchen, the moon looks close enough for me to pluck it out of the sky with my fingertips. I look east and see the coming of dawn. I spend twenty minutes watching the moon sink and the sun rise.  

3. Bacon and frozen waffles and a small pot of coffee. I feel a cold coming on. 

4. I'm rereading The Memoir Project by Marion Roach and she reminds me that my morning pages are not the real work. That the real work comes from dedicated time with my words, telling the stories. 

5. Seven days until I leave for Boston and then make my way to New Hampshire. I am trying to envision myself making this journey with more peace and less anxiety. 

6. I take off the jeans that feel too tight and put on my pajama pants, bring a mason jar of warm water with lemon and honey to ease my throat, and curl up under the covers.  

7. I can't be sick.  

8. I look out to the clouds and notice how the bottoms are gray and the tops are bright from the light of the sun. My arms are pressed against the glass and my eyes begin to swell with tears and I know that feeling this is what makes life worth living.  

9. I can't be sick.  

10. This is the first bath I've ever taken in this house. The tub is deep and the warmth of the water is making me sweat. I watch my arms float in the water and the dirt of the day rise up from my body and cling to the sides of the tub.