I spent this week

pondering a mistake I’d made

and the quality of my work

going on two long runs

participating in an incredible brainstorming session

discovering pimples

attending a volunteer gathering

checking my phones

listening to a podcast with Nikki Giovanni, the heroine,

marvelling at a young and female American politician

starting a new book

making dinners for my man working the inner-city ER night shifts

wondering when we’ll have a weekend in the same space with no plans together ever again

meeting a new colleague for dinner

going to church

and the sauna

and wondering if all this, perhaps, is too much.

Luckily, the next two hours, before and after midnight, on this Saturday night, will be quiet

and empty

and spacious

and mine

and here I come.

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