Writing With Abandon

I wake up (a little) later — anything with the digit 7 or above makes me happy.

We go out for breakfast at Tinta y Café. I order the breakfast sandwich with egg, cheese, guava jam, and ham, and a fresh-squeezed OJ. W

We make a grocery list and I eat half of my sandwich.

We come home. I run to the bathroom while P prepares the food for Phoebe, ready to start our morning of errands — Home Depot, Aldi, Trader Joe’s — before our beach day.

I go to text Male to see what time works for said beach day.

As I do, P tells me Phoebe won’t eat.

I look up, then down, because P is sitting on the kitchen floor with Pheebs.

Weird.

We try to hand feed her some kibble, she takes it, turns her nose at her medicine which she usually gobbles down, and then spits the kibble up. Then she heads to her bowl, appetite back.

Weird.

Then she stops eating before she’s finished and walks away. Doesn’t throw up, but doesn’t look comfortable, either.

We call the vet. Are told to monitor but come back if her symptoms get worse.

I let Male know we’ll circle back later.

We decide that I can still go to Home Depot. We’ve been needing to clean up the silicone job the handyman did (it never dried) and do it ourselves. I’ve also got 3 fiddle leaf fig cuttings that have roots and are ready to be transferred to pots.

I drive to Home Depot. It’s only 5 minutes away, but driving still makes me nervous since the accident. I consider that maybe I need to get behind the wheel more often to get comfortable with it again.

At Home Depot, I FaceTime P as I get distracted by all the different plants.

I end up getting what I need:

• 3 small pots for the fiddles
• Potting mix
• Silicone sealant
• Metal putty knife
• Paint thinner
• Paper towels

Along with a few things that I didn’t but wanted:

• Herbs (sweet basil, cilantro, and lavender)
• 3 small pots for said herbs
• 4 small flowering annuals
• A large planter for said flowering annuals

A kind employee helps me load my car.

I drive home, listening to Brené Brown and Adam Grant’s new podcast.

We follow my dad’s instructions carefully, and successfully put down the silicone. The paint thinner is slippery.

We start a load of laundry.

I head out to the balcony to begin gardening.

With the soundtrack of the birds chirping, I pot, repot, and water everyone.

I clean up and check out my work.

Phoebe seems better.

I eat the other half of my breakfast sandwich and write this slice.

Patrick will go get groceries now. It’s only 1:16. Maybe we’ll still make it to the beach.