Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifty-Six
It’s only Tuesday.
2nd day of tryouts. Still no work computer. I promised myself that yesterday was going to be the last day of coffee.
She’s got COVID. An extra few minutes to sip that coffee I’m not supposed to be drinking.
Sometimes, I just can’t tell.
Changes that challenge.
“We are seeking not to define ourselves, but to expand ourselves, to tune in to our limitlessness nature and connections to all that is.” - The Creative Act: A Way of Being
No, that’s not a travel.
I ask if it’s weird that I’m so excited for her to start high school. It will be hard and challenging but also exciting.
Johnny Weir.
The time will pass anyway.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifty-Five
One more week.
Bad length.
Third outfit change. Can’t get comfortable.
He says it. I hadn’t realized it. But it makes sense. “I’m getting older, I say.” She uses the word “perimenopause.”
Aaaaaaand there it is.
I somehow forgot that I had no computer. Sometime in the afternoon, they say. Oh, I need to go back home.
You have to put on pants for the eye doctor.
“Her mom said we look like twins with our hair pulled back.” “He said, ‘You look like your mom,’ when we were at Sunshine.” “I don’t see it.” “I don’t either.”
Everyone is so grown.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifty-Four
Last day of camp.
Last-minute stop for donuts before the long ride over.
I set down my bags and lay a blanket on the grass, bees buzzing on clover, a gentle breeze blowing through the vines creeping along the building walls, pretending I am somewhere else. Pretending I am someone else.
“Art is about the maker. It’s aim: to be an expression of who we are.” - The Creative Act: A Way of Being
Or, I could just not have them.
Today is a much better day. The nerves have worn off, I think.
Someone says it smells like pasta. “I think that’s sweat.”
Sunday Scaries.
My head feels so much lighter.
One week.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifty-Three
Camp day.
I get spooked for just a minute when I see “Oakville Grade” pop up on the screen.
I’m glad I took the scenic route.
“This place is not for me.”
I find a little wooden bench in the courtyard and journal before balling up my sweater and laying on my back. I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face.
I wish I could do it over again.
Nothing that needs to get done is getting done. I could go home. I could run errands. But sometimes, the right choice is the choice that makes it hard for you to do anything else but sit.
There is a distinct smell to Panda Express.
That’s not true. You just work harder and try again. You can always try again. You never know what may happen.
Let’s do it again tomorrow.
Ten.Two Thousand, Two Hundred & Fifty-Three
TGIF.
Just can’t stop drinking this coffee.
Oh, it’s done. There’s no turning back from it now. In the fire.
Broken computer is a gift in disguise.
Well, I guess it’s a good thing we practiced this conversation this morning.
Tacos and sunshine.
It’s these little tastes that keep you hungry for more. A little is never enough.
Three weeks?
Putting a key, money, and trust in his hand. They’re both wearing the same Bulls jersey.
Ten minutes early, which means they are on time.