It is the first thing I think of when waking up.

I remember that I do have a deadline. I repeat the date in my head.

The thing is, I do get to choose.

Daylight before 6:30. Summer is coming.

I feel like a volcano.

Big-breasted robin is back to visit. Keeps trying to fly into my window. Poor thing.

“There was a small snake on the tree yesterday,” I say. “Irredescent. Half blue and half yellow. He wouldn’t even walk by the tree.”

But don’t lie to me.

“You’re not miserable because we’re good kids,” she says.

We stay up way too late talking about what to do next. “I don’t like when my intelligence is insulted,” I say. “I am being so nice about this,” I say. “What is the goal? What do I want?” I say. “I’ll just ask the questions,” I say. “They’re nervous. I want them to stay nervous,” I say.