Ten.Eight Hundred & Thirty-Six

1. She comes today. I won’t see her until tomorrow, but she comes today.

2. Reheat muffins, make coffee. He will want those leftover hashbrowns. I really need to drink my water before I eat anything.

3. I worry. I worry about the loss of dream time, of free time, of art time. I worry that I won’t find a new rhythm that makes space for the other kinds of work I know I’m meant to be doing. I mourn the prior life while also trying to hold the potential of this new one. I’ll figure it out. Right?

4. What is with the traffic today? Sirens from behind. State Highway Patrol. The voice says this is still the fastest route.

5. The problem with listening to podcasts when you drive is that it’s impossible to write anything down. I try to repeat things in my head, a desperate attempt to remember. And then I realize that it’s okay. That whatever wants to stick will stick, even if it’s not the words and only the feeling.

6. Slow.

7. He left gifts on the table and each one is wrapped in the cutest red and white Japanese wrapping paper. I wish I could find out what’s inside.

8. Gratitude for leftovers.

9. She’s here.

10. Another bath. Another chunk of Delight devoured. I could get used to this.