This morning’s sun tried desperately to peek through gathering rain clouds, which I kept thinking about. I hoped they faded away before our pot luck at my boss’s house later in the morning. The sky was a beautiful mess of gray and yellowy-orange and some pink-tinged edges too. I was somehow calmer than usual as we went through our normal morning routine. Inside, I was stressing about Elliot, who is at the younger kids’ daycare this week and not exactly behaving. He’s just being a pain and they aren’t used to him but it bothers me. He’s nearly eight and I can’t have him being a punk. When will he outgrow that?
Regardless, I got them off to school just fine then returned to my car, Culture Club coming through the ipod into the speakers. Enveloped in the contemplative words of “Victims” I got through town in record time; my car seemingly speeding through the narrow roads of Seventh and Bronough. Down through the historic section of town are these gas lamps and a slew of age-old Live Oak trees, the subject of my next tattoo. I saw a particularly aged one, all bumpy at its base and… wise. It felt like such a powerful object, sitting just to the side of a well-traveled road; a permanent fixture of downtown Tallahassee.
Once to my office, I emailed the two people I had meant to yesterday, I ate my breakfast, then sipped my coffee; sweet sweet coffee. I opened all the necessary tabs; pulled up pre-written text for specific aspects of my job. I’m about to delve into a round of hardcore grading. I have to focus, buckle down, be free of distractions.