I text her and tell her that we are moving slowly today.

Mug full of hot water. Gentle, deep stretching. Foggy fall sky.

He still looks a little sad.

The barber asks me if the restaurant is open yet. I do not remember talking to him about it. I tell him that service is a little slow, but the food is good.

I feel like I’m being tested.

More and more and more everywhere I turn.

I don’t want to be the one complaining anymore. Most of what is coming out of my mouth are things I’m tired of saying.

We will make the best out of the situation.

First homecoming. One down, 7 more to go.

Peay Syrah. Matt Morris Charbonno. Alejandro Bulgheroni Estate.

This has been a really, really, really long week.