Monday, March 7, 2016

An hour.

I have an hour. An hour! An hour! My very own hour. This hour.

In one hour I'm going to see my counselor, then I'll run out the door and try to make the bike ride from the Mission to Gideon's school in Western Addition in 20 minutes (It takes 35). I love riding so fast.

Then it's lunch for me and the big boy and then a ride to the Embarcadero to the dentist. I have to get a filling. Which means several shots. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I can pay $75 and get laughing gas to ease the needle phobia. It will still suck. But at least I'll be in an altered state for most of it.

In the hours after I'll still have to bike home, help with homework, hug babies (which really is no trouble), make dinner, and try to maintain peace until Silas gets home (he's working late again). Then after bedtimes I will need to clean the kitchen, get donations ready for the JBBP Gala, pack a lunch, and lay our clothes for the morning. But that's not this hour.

I was supposed to be doing our budget during this hour. A date with me and my laptop at a coffee shop with my double espresso over ice. I add course sugar. But my bank's website is down. My children are at school (where I volunteered this morning) or with our sitter. And now I have this surprise gift of my own hour!

What would you do with your very own hour? If I were at home I would clean. Or do laundry. Or organize the garage. I have phone calls I want to make. But I can't really do that from a coffee shop. I didn't bring my ipad to work on my illustrations because I wasn't expecting this hour! But oh, I could write! And oh, I could plan! And oh, I could even pray!

Now if I could just be present enough to take advantage of this hour without thinking about all the hours before and all the hours to come.

Nevermind, the bank's website is back up.

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