Keep yourself addicted to movement, I tell myself.
4-mile run planned for today, right when I get back from taking kids across town.
Seems darker than it usually does at this hour. Seasons I guess…
A deep pull from coffee capsule, hear them waking.
Maybe don’t run right when you get home, maybe do at lunch. Check weather, said to be 64 at noon. Wow, I think. Perfect. Do that instead. Get a latte on way home and start working.
Plan for class… find time to grade, if you can.
Jack is first up and moving at such a speed that indicates readiness. Brushes his teeth, turns off light and heads my way, down to office then to kitchen.
6:58…. Jackie down here with me now. Good morning, I say to him. He offers same, tells me it’s two weeks till “Handsome” gets here, his little brother. Still no name for the littlest beat.
Keep everything organized, I tell myself. Get away from this desk. Only be here for calls. Pick up one of those inbox trays at the office store on the way home. Do I need one? No. Just thinking or writing maybe too loud.
Day 23 of 365…. Don’t write down goals or aims, only write what you’ve done, now what you want to do. Share this idea with students tonight possibly, more valuable in this covid day.
Script idea…. Just to play around…. Room Tasting. An idea I’ve had for years about the wine industry and working in a tasting room and the hilarity of it. So many ideas I haven’t …
Making Jack’s breakfast—a bagel and cream cheese, not much making involved—he informs me that when Handsome is 4, he’ll be twelve. Fuck I’m old. Why do I just get older, and older… Jesus. And why does this small human have to keep reminding me. I laughed though, there’s nothing I can do. All I can do in this new month and life with three lives looking to me for everything is laugh.