- Stretched, strengthened, dressed, coffeed, journaled, prayed, ordered, emailed–all before 7am. A girl could get used to this.
- Traces of last night’s meds linger too long, wrapping hazy arms around my thoughts, softening my muscles. It would be a perfect complement to the hazy softness of the day if I didn’t have so much to do.
- Pieces of the old reformed into something new.
- Across-the-street neighbor vapes on his porch before work, coffee mug in one hand, phone in the other. I’m suddenly jealous of his al fresco ease. I’ll get the chairs out tomorrow.
- Landing the unqualified and losing the super-qualified. Your ways are not my ways, but I’d love a hint.
- The elephant must submit to the rider for them both to travel the path.
- More baptism than wedding. The old is washed away; the new is here.
- I let it slip by another day and try not to be angry. It’s too big to let slide. First thing in the morning, I tell myself.
- Lysol it anyway.
- She calls for shortening and “2 1lb well-greased coffee cans.” I make do with butter and Betty Crocker loaf pans. I always wonder what she thinks when I modify her recipes.
Of leftover muscle relaxer in the blood, elephants and riders, and banana bread in coffee cans.