Today I am grateful for a job I love so much that I am happy to get to campus when the sky looks like this
In my bag, I have a Pyrex dish that contains a packet of instant oatmeal already moistened. I will throw it in the microwave when I check my mail on the way to my office, will dump my heavy load of books and peripherals on the floor by my desk and go back to the mailroom to retrieve my cereal, store my lunch in the fridge. I even brought milk to mix in when my oatmeal's cooked, a strawberry cereal bar to eat on the side. I will breakfast alone at the table in the corner of my office, my laptop open, knowing that I get my best work done in these stolen moments before the hall is filled with people and after they've all gone home.
Walking up the large cement steps to my building this morning, I saw dark sky toward the lake, but the rising sun slowly kissed the side of the business school in front of me, turning the bricks pink as it moved through the sky that dared to blue itself I think maybe just for me, for us, for my husband patiently gathering our preschoolers and their things, for my four-year-old who surprised us by spelling "Bill" at the breakfast table, for my two year-old who woke up with red cheeks and lightening-strike hair on the left side of his head, for our little family bouncing in rough waters and hoping we don't capsize, thinking we won't, guessing we might, wishing we'll float.