I’m watching my succulents gently shrink, shrivel.
I’m watching the dynamic smile lines on the left side of my mouth go static, get etched into my skin forever, largely because I sleep on my side.
I’m watching Doug and counting the cues he gives me that he wants to go outside before the sun gets any lower in the window to the left of where I work.
I’m watching myself work, get restless, make coffee, type a bad draft, highlight the places I’ll need to come back to in pastel yellow (#f5f58f) and mint green (#c2f7c2), the custom colors I carry over to each new Google Doc, each new day.
I’m watching myself counting the dollars that arrive every two weeks, separating them into pots—groceries, contact lenses, dentist, primary care, therapist, vacation, all so that I may see clearly, Amen.