He’s not moving.

Let’s see if I can stick to the plan.

Less distracting writing a the dining room table instead of my desk. A brightening sky.

Focus.

Talking on the phone with a familiar voice. Oh, yeah. I do miss this.

Chicken Tortilla Soup. I ask him to take a walk. I think of the last job and how they integrated different types of meetings as an option in the Outlook calendar. My last meeting was a walking meeting. Way more productive than a seated meeting.

Sore all over and it’s not from the yoga.

Late.

We’re all struggling.

“I’m trying to respect your boundaries.”