Ten.Seven Hundred & Eighteen
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Where is that white tank top?
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I walk to each bedroom and close the doors in hopes of not waking anyone too early. I like it when I get to make the coffee in all this silence.
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We’re running late. But looks like everyone else is too.
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Writing done. Now I can read. I send off a couple of emails first. Waiting.
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Leftover salad and water in the hammock while watching retouch videos. In the shade it’s just perfect. But the birds are so loud. I’m not complaining.
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I look at the baseboards. They are dusty. I won’t clean them until we have an answer.
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It wasn’t the worst.
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I am hungry. More hungry than I realized.
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So in my humanness today.
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Isn’t it bedtime yet?