Getting dressed in the dark.

It feels like a morning for blueberry muffins but I do shortcuts today—add all the eggs in at once, don’t sift the flour. The batter still looks smooth.

Celery juice and carrot/pear/ginger for later.

Big cotton-ball clouds and fog way off in the horizon, the gray-brown body of Mt. Diablo standing tall in front of them. I take Camino Diablo again, even though I know the mileage is longer but you don’t sit like you do during certain passes on Vasco.

Who owns the derelict vineyard at Bruns Rd. and Byron Highway? Why has it gone to waste?

Design Matters with Debbie Millman. I remember to save the interviews with Saeed Jones and Roxane Gay. “I am relentless in my ambition.”

What is the point of all of this anyway? Does anyone else know that this whole system is a racket? And yet here I am, trying to play certain parts of the game in hopes that I might be able to one day escape it.

He buys the book. I knew he would. And I will read it. And I will talk to her about it the next time I see her.

Chicken pot pie.

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hate so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” - James Baldwin