In the dream, I had dropped my phone over the Golden Gate Bridge and into the water. I could feel myself stressing out. I’m glad it woke me up.

Sometimes you do need a fresh look to brighten your day. These jeans and this sweater are enough life to get me through Monday. I’m already wishing I could wear it every day this week. Note to self, find this sweater in more colors and buy a second pair of these jeans.

The smell of bone broth and coffee.

I grab a banana and a donut. I don’t eat the donut. I nibble on the banana. I make the potstickers, warm the leftover rice.

I wish him good luck as he gets out of the car. The anticipation.

I wish I hadn’t asked. But I’m also glad that I did. I relax, tell myself that this isn’t something that needs to be fixed immediately. I ask him to write about his experience and email it to me so that I have documentation to present along with my requests. Here again we are presented with the gap. Lack of communication. So much transition.

She forgot about Tuesday.

It takes a lot longer to make the salad that I had anticipated. I tear the bread and drizzle it with olive oil and let it cook while I cook the bacon, chop the shallot, rip the escarole. I use my hands to coax the sweet bacon dressing onto the firm yet tender leaves. She’s right—how could I ever not make homemade croutons again?

I vacuum a little bit of the crumbs. I feel a little bit of rage bubbling to the surface. I think to myself that I want to tell all of my friends who are stay at home moms to not fall for it. Don’t go back to work thinking that you won’t still be doing everything at home. It always still feels like you do everything.

I don’t want to get out but the water is getting cold. Only 50 more pages to go.