I woke up this morning and looked at my calendar on my phone and there was nothing there. No commitments, no place I had to be, or go. Same thing tomorrow. 2 days in a row of blessed nothing.

So I stayed in my pajamas. I ate cinnamon toast, 2 cups of Ethiopean Yurgacheffe, a soft boiled egg.

I picked up Amanda Palmer’s The Art of Asking which I was about three quarters through and sat and finished it. And wept. Then I watched her TED talk, and signed up for all her social media and cried again watching the video of her song “The Bed.”

Crying in the morning is exhausting. It definitely sets the tone for the day.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, got dressed.

I dinked around online a little. G went out for the afternoon so I was home alone.

I made chicken noodle soup from a rotisserie chicken we had eaten the legs and wings from last week while it was hot.

I chopped carrots and celery and onion and sauteed and stirred and thought about vulnerability and how much I am armored and if I would ever be able to be vulnerable, and what that would look like. My mind was a blank. As blank as the snow outside the kitchen window. As blank as this page.

I decalcified the humidifier. I walked Boomer.

I wondered if I am grateful enough. I decided, no.

I downloaded an app called Gratitude 365 onto my phone where I am more likely to keep a gratitude journal than on paper.

I need to build some serious gratitude muscle.

The soup made the house smell amazing. G came home. We slurped our soup and caught each other up on our day.

And here I sit, in my cozy lair, wearing a shawl that one of my students knitted for me, feeling hugged. Feeling grateful.