I should get up but I don’t want to get up.

Biscuits and breakfast sausage.

I feel like everyone is talking to me at the same time. No one can seem to contain themselves. And it’s kind of a good thing.

What’s that noise? Three squirrels chasing one another through the trees, knocking of cherries and leaves.

Just get started.

It’s amazing to me how much our lives seem to run parallel. And how strange it is to feel such kinship with someone you’ve yet to meet in real life.

Scattered. Scattered. Scattered.

I stop working and take my tuna tacos with spicy slaw out to the hammock. The quiet, the sun, the trees. Remember to savor.

She does taxes for small businesses. And she is a photographer. And she wants to know more about my retreat. And she lives down the street. And she’s wearing an ankle-length tye-dye dress. She might be my kind of people.

Will either of us be able to sleep tonight?