Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Ninety-Six
Five days in a row.
Gold, gold morning light. That’s how you know it’s going to be hot.
One coffee and five bags of sour gummy bears to take back to the middle school.
Simple but tedious.
“It’s hard being Black and smart and a woman.”
“It’s good, but it’s not champagne.”
Daydreams of running away. “I need a break from home,” I say, Just a tiny one. Even just a day.
This is having teenagers: no one is ever home.
The thing is that we are not the type not to say anything. And maybe that’s how the rest of them get through it: smile and nod and hold back. Not being afraid of power puts you in hard situations, even when you know you’re right.
Tomorrow: solo walk on the trails, hot tea on the sofa, writing, flag football, groceries, hammock.
