Time to take back the space. Do you remember when we wrote on our blogs and pressed publish and … that was it? There was no Instagram to cross-post on. No Facebook to load a link into and write a pithy caption to try and grab attention. There was just… this. Posting, and wondering if people would see it.
It is quarter to eleven in the PM. My child is asleep in his crib. I can hear him breathing. Lungs knowing what to do, over and over. A year and a half old and he has changed so much in just the year and a half since coming out of my womb.
(I made a PERSON. This astounds me over and over again.)
Not only did I make him, I cared for him since he was born. I do it daily. I take breaks so his father can do it for a few days. Then I tap in again.
I can hear the fan in his room. And the tapping of my laptop keys. Other than that it is quiet.
I can feel change coming. Artist? Paramedic? Both? The house I dream of - the old shingles, the wild roses, the view of the sea? Or something else, and these are just the things I think of now, that are leading me there?
What will I have for lunch tomorrow. I am bored of sandwiches. I am bored of preparing food. Remember how I made Adam’s sandwiches every morning? White bread. Sliced deli meats. Mayo and mustard. The same each time. I have blocked some memories out.
The two hot muggy weeks are over, I think. Pre-Fall is beginning. Funnily enough that is also a “season” in retail.
In the limitations of my busy schedule there is freedom.
It was a non-elimination leg of the race tonight.