The air feels crisp this Wednesday morning. I woke up early today with Mark’s alarm, happy to throw on yoga pants and boil him a cup of tea and reheat the attempt at blueberry muffins I made last night. He’s been painting long days, while I’m in class. Rieker patiently waits at home, no doubt curled up in a big lumpy ball of black lab on our pillows.
It feels like change in the air. The end of August is always electric. So much shifting. We start fall classes late September. Until then, I long to camp, to see the ocean again, to spend days with friends and music. Freedom.
It seems that i have a new raft guide job in the making, if I choose to snatch it up. Last weekend Mark and I helped out with an annual party hosted by a small law firm. Three days of camping, rafting, and awkward small-talk left us sore, sunburned, and happy.
As for now, I bike to class four days a week. Two more weeks of essay writing and spinning (I will miss you stationary bicycle)