1. Sunday morning writing, light snowfall, good coffee, space heater in my home office/guest bedroom (which has housed no guests in many months): an inventory of small and important happiness.
2. I do not want to download the game my children want me to download, which is not compatible with their devices and is compatible with the aging computer I use for work, and also the tablet I use for work, and a laptop that is slow but can maybe handle it, and I tried last night to download it to the laptop, which was indeed slow and didn't load, and they want to try again today whereas I want to read a book and bake some bread, but I forgot to make the dough yesterday, in part because I was badgered all day about downloading a game.
3. The problem is low memory, she said, looking over her shoulder.
4. The sadnesses of 2020 are too much with us. The flip of a calendar means nothing.
5. Still, I will write the things I need and want to write, and will aim for hopefulness about all the projects on all the burners, and will remind myself of the thing that the person who helped me get my current position by writing recommendation letters on my behalf for literal years said, when I noted that the position was certainly stressful and different and came with higher risks/rewards: You wanted this, he said, in a chiding, singsong voice, with a gentle smile and kind eyes that showed he knew what I meant, and that I was in charge of what came before and whatever came next.
(is this embroidered on a towel, and how may I purchase it, internet?)
