Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Seventy-Three

1. Hot.

2. There is too much light coming through the slats. I somehow turned off the 4:45 alarm. It is almost 6.

3. The slam of the garbage truck emptying the cans. Forgot to dump the green waste.

4. Just getting it out of my head and onto paper is the process. There is no controlling how something is read. Everything is passing through a filter.

5. Contradictions.

6. Bubbles to celebrate. Fresh waffle chips with labneh and salmon roe. Crudites. Burger and fries. The rooms are nice and well-appointed. I’d prefer a rug here or there for added softness. But beautiful, nonetheless.

7. I try to skip over the Instagram stories and posts but there is no escaping it. And isn’t it wild how we are all supposed to go on with life and work as if nothing is happening, as if because it wasn’t our child or our town, then we should be able to proceed with life as though everything is normal? And then we wonder why we are so stressed and sick.

8. Where are the places we all go to process collective trauma?

9. Of course, I have taken all of the hats out of the car and today is the day I absolutely need a hat. He is standing behind two tall girls. Thank goodness he wore the red hat; at least I can find that.

10. I tell her that it’s so hard to believe that I am done with elementary school. I tell her how last week I realized that I had both a 5th and 8th grade promotion. How I find myself being the sentimental parent I never thought I would be.