Ah. Right. Garbage Day. The one day I can finally sleep in but I can’t.

Today is the day.

Knock at the door. Who could this possibly be? Desks. Finally, the boys have desks.

He comes down the stairs talking about a dream. At least he’s talking. This is a big improvement.

This is only for today. September is almost over and then I can welcome the quiet back in.

Dappled light.

I tell him that he really has to get it in one take. I am no videographer. Not yet.

Breonna Taylor. Disappointed but not surprised. How could one believe in a system that was never designed for them, anyway?

I tell her that I’m excited for tomorrow because I have a journaling workshop and then the conversation with Alice - and also yoga between all of that.

My eyes are so dry from looking at my phone and my computer all day. Contacts out. Watery eyes.

Dinner reservation for his birthday. Compline. 2012 Pierre Peters “Les Chétillons” Blanc de Blancs Brut. Cool night. He says it’s the best birthday he’s had in a long time. Even though we kind of forgot about it.