you will wake up and it will be hailing. well, that's not right. it will thunder very loudly and you will think, oh, it's storming. and in less than a minute, it will be hailing.
you will check the windows as if this will somehow be informative, and you will decide not to go to yoga. hail is a good excuse.
you will lay back down and your last thought will be that you certainly hope the yaris doesn't get hail damage.
i've always loved storms. the air is alive with electricity and the way they happen in north texas just feels like home. the whole place is home, you know, and you can try to deny it forever but you will come back, like salmon or birds or something else that migrates with this knowledge from previous generations.
storms are for closeness, for the feeling of calm that comes from the comfort of the human condition.
at work there will be no internet. good thing everything we do at this place requires it.
you will resort to having long conversations about the jfk assassination.
at 4:30p, you will be ready to go to bed. this week has been successful. so good yet so full.
you will go to the wine bar instead to meet leah's mom, and it will be great because these are your people. no drinking though. sleep only.
end up going out to dinner with leah, brian, and mj at lilli's and feel lucky for it. life is too short to not have friends like these. back to mj's hotel where brian wants to end the night in the bidet. it takes three of us to be unable to reach a consensus on whether or not the thing is working properly.
you will sleep fitfully for no apparent reason and dream of a future you that hinges on more decisions than you ever want to make.