Ten.Nine Hundred & Thirty-Three
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The dream. I want to experience just the last few minutes of it over and over again. I replay it in my mind before getting out of bed. There are just certain things you need to hold on to.
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Make coffee. Clean the kitchen counters. The granite in this kitchen was never sealed or never re-sealed and so it’s pitted in random places. Which means that every time I run my fingers across the countertops I think there is food stuck to it. This drives me bananas. I can never tell if they’re clean.
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The sound of the coffee percolating. I think back to our conversation when I said something about how it’s not even just the drinking of coffee that’s become a ritual, but the sound of the coffeemaker that brings about some peace, offers some grounding.
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Game day.
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I thought it was Wednesday?
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If nothing else, it’s just good to have an ally, no matter the result.
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I keep myself from reaching out to grab one of the calamari. I assume that if I could have eaten some he would have told me to dig it. PIctures first.
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Truffled popcorn.
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The baby cows are no longer babies anymore.
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The boys are travelling all over the place. But we finally win a game. Maybe his method is slow and steady.
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The story is right here. The story is right here.