Ten.Six Hundred & Seventy-Seven
I grab English muffins, butter, and jelly. And three Lunchables. Ease.
Okay. Only 40 minutes.
This must be a part of the Delta where a lot of mass agriculture goes on. Tractors, large expanses of fields with neat rows of brown earth and tiny green things.
She tells me that my birth certificate will not work. I don’t understand. I can’t do anything today. I will have to leave and come back. She shows me the number to call to get another birth certificate. I tell her that I’ve been using this one for 20 years for all my other licenses. I’m shaking out of anger and frustration and maybe too much caffeine. “I’ve been here for 6 months and can’t get anything done.”
I slam the car door. Eighty minutes of driving for no reason. I make another appointment. July 31st. I feel bad for being snappy with her. It’s not her fault. But man, what a frustrating morning.
I have no meal plan but the tuna is on sale. So are the tomatoes. I grab Italian sausage and a can of crushed tomatoes and some pasta. Let it be easy.
No clouds in the sky. The dusty silhouette of the moon.
I don't know what that one is. The fruit is gaining in size, still bright green with a chalky look.
I can feel the answer in my gut.