Getting some stuff done in office before loft duty.  Dinner taken care of, tonight should be smooth.  Tomorrow, TBD.  Sound, planned activities after chill morning we always have on our Sundays.

Not anxious or nervous about Monday but almost beside myself eager, like JUST LET ME BE THERE NOW.  SF, in the financial district, I think, around everything and everyone business and tech.

Emma enjoying some pretzel goldfish and a “daddy water”, sparkling water, bubly her favorite.  Not sure why I still get nerous on my weekends, or afraid I’ll run out of things for them to do, or that they won’t like what I feed them which has never happened but I still think about it.

I’m overthinking, I know.  Sipping a bubly myself, trying to relax.  Calm…these 199 words devoted to calm, to zen, to being in the moment and having more subscription in myself as a single dad.

Getting dark already.  New day type and season.  Nerves not done, they remain and refuse to flee.  Forcing me to return artillery.  I’m going to have the best weekend with my little Madigans and next week is all I need to change EVERYTHING.