In the dream, the monster is on one side of the girl, and I am on the other. The more and more I try to make the monster leave, the more he digs in his claws. I am terrified. The girl’s cries are louder and louder.

I turn over and see that is only 1 a.m. which is both a relief and a burden. I don’t want to go back to that dream.

I scribble into my journal. Three pages fill up quicky. I find the glue sticks and scissors and grab a stack of magazines. I glue the last few words before dashing out the door for work.

Let’s make this a fun Friday.

I feel my heels sticking to the mud as we walk between the vines. Not the worst shoe to wear, but not the best. Some of the bird boxes are crooked.

We eat inside the greenhouse. Steak frites and lemonade for me.

Fresh air and a walk that is also work.

Sun on my face. Blinding. I don’t mid. It’s taking the chill off.

I stare out across the horizon at the green hills, the blue sky, trees.

All of this.