morning @ 2779

The retractable IKEA shades start rattling because Birdie has decided they are her morning enrichment activity. “Birdie, leave it alone,” I say, already negotiating with gravity before I have had a cup of Maxwell House. The local favorite.

Then the Amazon heater we bought two years ago lets out a dramatic beep. Not because it is doing anything useful, but because Behr is mashing the buttons like he is launching a space shuttle. “Behr, turn it off!”

Morning roll call complete.

Meanwhile, “Tim” from Loan Care is calling again.

This time from a Las Vegas number. Yesterday he was in Ohio. Tim really gets around.

I do not know how he does it. Just waking up in a new city every day, chasing opportunity, dialing strangers with unwavering confidence.

Must be nice. A little glamorous. My man is practically on tour while I am over here mediating turf wars between the blinds and the heater.

My inbox looks like a landfill.

My laptop is showing finances, my phone is showing an article I am pretending to absorb, and my brain is showing a spinning wheel of emotional buffering.

Rupert is loudly conducting dental work on his own butt.

And outside, someone has decided that eight in the morning is the perfect moment to reenact a slasher film with a chainsaw.

Trees always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Another serene, luxurious morning.

Honestly, breathtaking.