TGIF.

I miss the days when the weekend was not something I looked forward to.

I leave early to get bagels for the team. They really are the best bagels I’ve had since leaving New Jersey. I wish we had one in Brentwood. Livermore is too far to drive for a bagel.

I place my hand on the door and then stop myself. I turn toward the sun and close my eyes, set my intention for the day. Today will be a good day.

Well there goes that.

I say something about choosing to protect a boundary for someone who can’t manage to do it for themselves. And then I fill up my water bottle and walk to the garden. I grab the lemon balm and then smell my fingers. I wonder what trees they’ve planted to replace the tomatoes. The table is set for a wine and cheese pairing; glassware and gold chargers. Poppies?

We have a name for this kind of person.

I’m no longer interested in not being that angry black woman at the school.

I tell him that there’s not way I could anything that would be worth eating today. I think of “Like Water for Chocolate” and Tita and the wedding cake that made everyone sick. I can only imagine what angry cooking would do to the belly.

Still sweating from the heat of the bathwater.