Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Four
4:34 a.m.
They’ve changed the decaf coffee. Not bad, but not as good as Naysayer.
Maximize what can be done with what you have.
Trying to avoid the news.
I almost wonder if showing this to them will backfire.
All I can think about is taking a nap. Pajama pants and cozy socks on. Slide under the covers.
I remember that I didn’t lock up the classroom, so I put my jeans back on and make my way back to the school. It’s suddenly windy, and leaves are swirling around.
As long as I get those decaf pods before tomorrow morning.
There is a fine line between denial and acceptance.
I could use another day. Why do I need another day?
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Three
Mornings when I can’t sleep.
The way the sunlight leaks through the morning fog. Almost holy.
So. much. laundry.
Enough time to finally clean the bathrooms and sweep and vacuum.
Glad they got a win on this one. Even with all of those turnovers. But they always work hard, and that’s what matters.
We both eat big chicken burrito bowls for a late lunch. It’s still cloudy and cold.
Need just one more day.
He says that the girls were patient. I wonder what that means. She says that people were rude and did not say “please” or “thank you.” I guess that is what he means by them being patient.
They notice that I still have my tree up. “I’ll try to take it down tomorrow,” I say.
He had fun.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-Two
Slow start to the Saturday.
Foggy morning coffee run.
Feeling it in every muscle.
Special delivery.
They almost got the win today. Almost.
I already know that I need one more day. How do I get one more day?
Watching videos of the water washing over the rocks. The rhythms of nature.
Traffic on the way back home. The sun is out. The mustard is blooming. And it’s a holiday weekend. A preview of what’s to come.
He says that regardless, it’s great that we are having this conversation. And then, as always, how much do I say? When will it be the right time? Probably better to say something now than later?
But I think they can handle it.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-One
Friday. Game day.
She asks me if I will remember, though. At first, I am offended even though she’s right. I forget about a lot of things these days. However, today, I will remember the blanket and the pillow.
I grab a copy of the paper while he pays for the coffee and find the article in the center with a few pictures and giggle to myself because I can imagine what she’s going to say. But they look like they are playing basketball.
To have reached the point where there aren’t enough uniforms is a good place to be.
I look at all the bags lined up on the sidewalk and it looks like we’re going away for three days not 12 hours. Better to have and not need than need and not have as Mom would say.
Standing on the bluffs overlooking the water. The colors of the water today are especially beautiful. The sun is lowering itself in the sky, casting gold against the rugged rocks and rough sea.
The three of us are standing on the edge looking down at the sea lions and the crashing waters. An older couple and their dog make their way past. “Did you see the whale? It’s the first one we’ve seen of the season. Look out there against the horizon and you’ll see them blowing water.” They continue on and the three of us stare silently out at the sea. There’s one and another and another and another. We realize that we’ve been staring down at the water below that we had failed to look beyond the bouys. And isn’t that a metaphor for life? How often are we staring so hard at what’s right in front of our faces that we fail to see the beauty beyond the horizon?
42-41 road win against a tough opponent. This team. Record breakers.
“I think I ran over some baby piggies.”
Crawling into bed. TGIF.
Ten.Two Thousand, Three Hundred & Eighty-One
In the dream, I am walking through Trader Joe’s and see a newborn baby all bundled up, resting on top of a stack of boxes. I pick up the baby and decide that I’m going to take care of it. But I can’t find any formula to feed it. In the next store, the formula is locked behind the glass.
Hot-sauce burpee.
So much laundry.
I am the first one in the office, so I keep her on speakerphone as I turn on the lights and make my first cup of decaf.
It just might be okay after all.
In telling the story, he says the words “soccer” and “Mr. Rapinoe,” and there can only be one. We talk about basketball and building a program and he understands the significance of going from 4-20 to 7-8 with half a season to go.
I could fight it, but I don’t have the energy to.
To see three colleagues in one place is something that never happens—especially not in a middle school gym.
Well. That was fun.
What is the baby?