That last Friday in April

Dawn quit her job so she could spend more time with the kids, and that meant her office was up for grabs. Dawn’s office is kind of ideal, with good morning light flanked by book shelves, and a door that locks. I tried the office for a couple days but decided to stick with mine because I like to nap between meetings, and my office is in the bedroom. I’ll work in bursts and then doze for 10-20 minutes with my phone next to me to monitor email and pop up as needed, maintaining the illusion I’m an always-on automaton.

Charlotte’s cyclic face tics have evolved into one with her eyes now, where she’ll flick them upwards repeatedly and then look disgusted or disparaging, a look that’s 100% convincing. We start family therapy this weekend.

The cat did kill the baby rabbit I tried to rescue on Easter, but left the head on. It’s on its side by the chicken coup, a scene that would have troubled me in the past but now seems normal.

The engine light came on in my car again and the whole thing kind of shakes like I’m driving on a bumpy road even when I’m not.

I built a fire and sat drinking beer as the day dropped out and the birds started up, and played Fela Kuti on my wireless speaker.

And I went back and forth on my job, feeling at times confident and others, threatened, secretly feeling fine if it all came to an end and I had the summer off, and all four of us could be together…which would be fun perhaps for about a week.

About pinklightsabre

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in humor, Memoir, parenting, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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