It’s Friday night, and I have no kid to tutor, no place or task to rush off to (yet), and no lights on.
I’m listening to sporadic sprinkles of rain, a neighbor’s chirping birds, and an ice cream truck that must be parked somewhere nearby. The music is broken - “Pop Goes the Weasel” sounds like it’s playing underwater.
I’m so tired, so hungry, so happy, so…
