Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Eighty-One
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Eyes flutter open. Not quite ready to get out of bed. I hear something rustling against the window. No. Nothing can make that sound against the windows up here. It is an earthquake. No one wakes up.
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Yeah. The braids will be back this weekend.
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I send my round of follow-up emails from yesterday’s meeting. I am still just as confused as before.
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Am I freaking out for no reason?
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Prepared, but not.
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Isn’t is all about self-compassion?
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My text was confusing and still she knocks it out of the park. She sets down the kids pb & j, a container of dill pickles, as well as dill pickle chips. I chuckle. But really, my heart is warmed by the thoughtfulness.
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I tell her that the downside of back-to-back-to-back meetings is that my brain feels more scattered. It’s hard to regroup and recalibrate.
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The week was short but has felt so long.
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I watch the game on the app while listening to the football coach talks about the program. Doubles, triples. They will lose - by a lot.
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Where is the place for an appropriate release?