Trevor left early in the morning, in the dark and the cold. I always think I’m going to dread being in charge of winter mornings when he’s away, but there’s something I like about. Something nostalgic like how cinnamon smells or hearing the first Christmas song of the season. Something about know that, from the outside, when I flip on the lights in the kitchen to start breakfast, my house looks like it’s glowing.

I managed school drop-off and met a friend for coffee. We had a lot to catch up on, so a couple hours later, I ran a few errands. This includes running a piece of posterboard to the middle school, which I had not anticipated doing—no one knows a schedule disruption like a mother.

The day warmed up a bit and the sun was actually hot. The effect, when I got home, was fatigue. Or maybe that was having been sick. I’d meant to work, but my body suggested resting. For once I decided to listen.