Ten.One Thousand, Eight Hundred & Ninety-Seven
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Coldest morning yet.
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I find it almost humorous how different the responses are to the same question when they are coming from different mouths.
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I am the first one in. Only quiet. I open the window to let in a little bit of fresh air. The vines that run up the hill are changing colors. It is a beautiful view. A beautiful morning.
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I sneak downstairs to have a more private conversation because a conversation must be had.
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I find the comment funny but also incredibly immature.
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If I could just have fewer interruptions in my day.
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I sit on the bench and staple the papers together. How many will there be? I am almost certain I already know my final count.
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Would this materially change the outcome of my season? No. If not, then what is the best decision for the team? How can I make this work?
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Less light but more work.
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I crawl beneath the weighted blanket and tell him that I feel like Iām being taken advantage of.