1. I’m at the place finally in this revision where it’s starting to actually feel like a book to me, where I’m reading through and able to get my arms around it, to find the loose threads and pull them without worrying I’m going to unravel the whole thing and strangle myself. I’ll probably feel differently in five minutes, but for right now: it’s nice.
2. The three construction workers who eat their breakfast every morning outside the Dunkin’ Donuts on Broadway and use the Herald dispenser as a table like they’re at the world’s Southiest tea party.
3. August makes summer feel urgent; am eating as many tomatoes as humanly possible and seeing as many people I love as I can. Tonight I’m having margaritas with my best friend from high school. Tomorrow I’m meeting my sister at the beach.
4. The natural light in the new Harvard Art Museum, which I actually kind of liked more than the art itself.
5. This morning I heard Carly Simon on NPR, which made me think of my dad. I grew up in a Carly Simon house. I grew up in a Joni Mitchell house, too, and a classical music house, with parents who wanted us to hear things whether we particularly liked them or not. Last night at eleven-thirty my mom texted, half-frantic: do you remember when we took you to the Italian children’s opera with the puppets?
Yes, I promised. I remember.