A Good Morning

I see you lurking.

I see you lurking.

True, my eyes are bloodshot as usual, but when I woke up and went out on the terrace, I had a moment.  A really good moment. I could see stars.  Several–the sky was that clear.  And dark.

I was able to do my abbreviated yoga routine without hurting myself, another plus.

I know the summer is really over, because I’m sitting here with hot tea instead of iced.  Still took Art Child to school wearing my shorts and flip-flops, though.

In between yoga and waking the girl, I found this on the table.  He did it.  Husband found the absolute perfect card for my annual 29th birthday celebration.

The new new math. Or, if you prefer, the new middle aged math.

The new new math. Or, if you prefer, the new middle aged math.

I was able to get a decent amount of crap sorting and tossing accomplished yesterday, only 3,493 more piles to go!  Unreal.  How does so much shit accumulate?  I look around and swear I don’t want any of it, I’m going to throw it all away.  Then I start sorting through, and can only convince myself to part with half.  I can weed through the kids old schoolwork.  I don’t really need every test, homework assignment, and nursery school painting.  I can’t throw away Man Child’s 9/11 journal: his eight year old perspective on what happened from a child’s point of view here in New York, in the days and weeks following the attacks.  I can’t throw away Nerd Child’s book from kindergarten, which he dedicated to himself, because he did the work.  I can’t throw away Art Child’s early art, or the eleventy billion logs, notes, and receipts that comprise her medical history.  I can’t throw away the Christmas card from Husband, assuring me the prior bad year would soon fade from memory.  (lies, by the way–crystal clear)  I can’t throw away my old, snail mail rejection letters.  Can I?  Maybe I can.  Though they are safely tucked away in the file cabinet, it isn’t like they’re making a mess.

I went up to the new apartment, stared down the ancient monster of a range that comprises half the kitchen.

Chocolate pudding brown. When it was in style, it was called coppertone.

Chocolate pudding brown. When it was in style, it was called coppertone.

In case you’re wondering, I’m going to bring my beautifully plain white stove upstairs with me.  The work is being done.  I’m not sure how we’re going to eat for the rest of the year, but most of the major cracks and holes in the walls have already been repaired.

I haven’t worked on my short story in several days, and doubt I will today.  I’d like to, but there’s more crap sorting to do.  I’m still waiting on agent responses for Astonishing, and as I sort crap, I can imagine my little email bing is notifying me of an offer, and fantasy-stock my soon to be real (maybe, I hope) new tank.  One of my friends is making plans to come and visit later this fall.  Whee!  We’ve never met in person, but after years and conversations, photos and laughs, she’s as real to me as Fatigue.

Anxiety, crap, and all, I’ll take these moments.


  1. Crikey, that stove! I’m glad you have a ready replacement. And glad you’ve had a nice start to the week. More important though, if I understand the post correctly, today is your birthday! HAPPY 29th….ish! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. What a positive post. Dying to hear about/see your new apartment take shape. Don’t throw the kid stuff away but chuck those rejections #negativeenergy.

    I’m trying to remember a wonderful NY movie with a couple waiting for two girls’ grandmother to dye so they could extend into her apartment. There was a lot of vintage furniture, an affair and black humour involved. It’s very good but cannot remember either the name or one actor!!!!

    Hmmm, your life is a movie!


  3. I threw away my snail mail rejection letters. None of them were personalized, and I”m racking up enough electronic ones which I’ll probably never delete anyway. I feel like it makes some kind of cosmic balance.

    Fingers crossed for that fantasy email bing!


    1. Heh, you’re smarter than I am 🙂 Quite a few of the ones I have filed away are personalized, but I don’t know that it matters. Maybe once we’re moved and settled, I’ll attack my file drawers, but I’ll never get out of here if I approach them now 😉

      Thank you for the good thoughts! ❤


  4. Bwa ha ha ha I can’t believe you don’t wanna keep Coppertone. You can send that to where we lived 2 apartments ago, where we had bright orange carpet IN THE KITCHEN. Orange carpet. In the KITCHEN. (And cracked yellow countertops.) I wonder if that carpet is still there. 😀


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