Rainy mornings with paperwork up to my eyebrows makes me feel productive. I'm not sure but there's something very grown up about putting on earrings and high heels and grabbing my laptop bag, purse and umbrella and heading out to John in the waiting truck. Sitting in the back. He has coffee waiting but I ignore it in favor of lipgloss and music.
The rain pours in a protective curtain around the car as he heads across the bridge towards downtown, toward Caleb's stupidly expensive glass box, toward my beautiful little desk that I wish he would let me bring to the house because I have a sunny little nook that would be perfect for it.
In my bag are the children's school portraits. I know Caleb will be pleased with them. The older Henry gets, the more he looks like me, and the more Ruth looks like Cole. Both children are suddenly almost-teens and I don't understand how that time flies while other time falls behind.
He is very pleased. I present them over more coffee and maple donut bars. I would eat a second one but there isn't one. I contemplate grabbing Caleb's right off the plate. He seems to be ignoring it. I refrain. Had a tiny smidgen of trouble zipping my dress up this morning thanks to the giant bowls of mini chocolate bars sitting on the island in the kitchen at home and decide my sweet tooth is writing cheques that my waistline has no means to cash. I'll quit today and go back to pears and tea with honey to quell the sugar crave.
Dammit.
I like sweet things and it's been forever since I've had cake but there will be some cake tonight and maybe if I'm really good today Caleb will let me take the Escalade home and then I can turn the stereo up to twelve and leave it there. Then when he takes it back he'll get blown out of his seat.
Or something.
It seems like the morning flies. I get very little done. I am having trouble focusing. Probably the sugar. I keep watching the planes take off and I am hoping I don't make any payroll mistakes but I always add three times and type once so I've never made a mistake. I submit everything for Caleb's signature and he suggests Chinese food for lunch. I don't have the heart to tell him we had Chinese food on Saturday night so I agree and we go to a place that tucked down in China town. A noisy little white-washed place with take-out containers and a fan blowing the best smells out onto the sidewalk.
We get our food to go and drive down to Stanley park, stopping at Third beach and parking to eat. I try not to roll my eyes. I once told Cole when Ruth was a year old that I would never have dinner in the car again. I wouldn't say that to Caleb. Besides, he would just tell me it isn't dinner, it's lunch. We finish up quickly, I am hungrier than I thought I was. He laughs and exits the truck to dispose of our garbage while I put on another layer of lip gloss.
I love lip gloss.
The afternoon flies and I get absolutely nothing done. Everything is too easy, everyone is being too nice, no challenges, no confrontations, no ragged-edge emotions that we use instead of minutes in the hour to tell the time.
I don't get it.
I don't understand why this isn't harder and yet I am well aware of that other shoe, always poised to stomp on my head and so I do nothing. I just advance with my shield handy and I cling to who ever is closest at hand, threading my fingers through theirs, squeezing until I wish I hadn't worn my rings. Mostly I believe that it's for my benefit, that they are all just trying hard to be flexible and mellow and then maybe I will too.
It's working for Bonham. Really if you don't make a huge fuss over him when you walk into my house, he won't jump all over you and clamor for attention.
Apparently for Bridget, life should be conducted much the same.
Terrific.
I was home before school let out and broke my jacket zipper, which was fine, it was the liner of a coat Cole bought for me in 2002 that I would pull on for running out quickly, raking leaves, etc. etc. Henry let me wear his jacket on the way home because he was overheated from gym and had his shirt and sweater so I took it gratefully. He's got chivalry in his blood, he may as well begin to use it.
I hope I can get a little more accomplished tomorrow but if I don't, well, that's okay too. I'm not putting any pressure on myself, just taking things minute by hour by day and as long as I don't think about absolutely anything at all, I think everything will be fine.
I did not get the Escalade.
