Ten.One Thousand, One Hundred & Ninety-Five
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But wait. Can I go back to the dream where I’m sitting next to Beyoncé?
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It is entirely too warm for this outfit but it’s the middle of October, and I want to feel like it’s October.
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I shouldn’t have fed him the pear. Now he will follow me around all the time.
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I quickly realize that I’ve added more hours to my day by starting at the same time, though I’m two hours ahead of everyone back home.
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Refreshing Gmail to see if there is an update. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Trying not to care, even though you do.
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I planned to only ride for 10 minutes but I end up listening to 8 Dua Lipa songs which means I’ve done about 4 miles. 4 miles on the bike in jeans and boots.
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Organizing folders on the desktop.
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Feeling the urge to write.
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He’s too smart for his own good.
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I take some water and my book out to the patio to enjoy while I grill the chicken. Quiet. Breeze. Lizards running up the brick.
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But I’m trying not to open all the good stuff. He tells me to grab a bottle of Novicium and I say no to that too. But, then again, what are we saving it for? Maybe for moments like these? I find a bottle of Nicolas Feuillatte brut rosé.
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Being asked a question, answering that question, and then being questioned about the answer. Then supporting that answer with proof only to be questioned about the proof provided. Would this have happened if I were white? Or a man? Or older?