Coldest morning yet.

I find it almost humorous how different the responses are to the same question when they are coming from different mouths.

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.

I sneak downstairs to have a more private conversation because a conversation must be had.

I find the comment funny but also incredibly immature.

If I could just have fewer interruptions in my day.

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.

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?

Less light but more work.

I crawl beneath the weighted blanket and tell him that I feel like I’m being taken advantage of.