So cold

No pants. Oh boy.

I open up the computer and try to find the words. I am scared that they will never come.

The undercurrent of anxiety.

I will be glad when I don’t have to cross this bridge ten times a day.

I walk out of the bathroom and say to her, “you know those kinds of mornings where you can’t remember if you’ve put on deodorant? It’s that kind of start to the day.”

I look out over the tennis courts glowing from the light slipping through the trees.

I really need to write.

She calls to tell me that she’s done. I tell her that I am too. Can we cut bait and just get straight to it?

My feet are freezing. I had forgotten this about the early part of the season when the sun is still setting before 7pm and the air can’t hold the warmth from the day.

He asks me about all of the things I need - the top three things that I need. I can’t settle on three. I need the six, seven, ten things.

After tomorrow, will it really be better?