I'm noticing a pattern: I'm getting up earlier. Even though it's Saturday, I am up before 7.
I leave a note for the family. My youngest daughter is sleeping in the front room, my oldest in the computer room, and my husband is asleep in bed and I don't want to wake anyone.
I open the front door to discover that it is wet outside, so debate a few moments before I go through the parking lot to the garage and get out umbrellas and my jacket, back to the apartment with the umbrellas and I leave them outside the door, taking one for myself. The rain is very light, and there are moments I where I wonder if it's stopped.
I know that Carl's Jr. fast food place is a half mile away, as I checked out Mapquest a month ago for distances to places we frequent. I head there, going through the Fred Meyer parking lot. At the stop light, I check my time: fifteen minutes. I head back, and decide to try the canal road.
All ends well, as I go down it, find the gate open, and go up on the parkway, down to Reed Lane, and then back through the complex to the apartment, stopping to pick up the mail, which includes envelopes from my mom and youngest sister, addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan B__" and "Sarah and Jonathan B___."
Back at the apartment, it is still dark. In a few moments, my oldest comes in, as she went to the store while I was gone.
I leave a note for the family. My youngest daughter is sleeping in the front room, my oldest in the computer room, and my husband is asleep in bed and I don't want to wake anyone.
I open the front door to discover that it is wet outside, so debate a few moments before I go through the parking lot to the garage and get out umbrellas and my jacket, back to the apartment with the umbrellas and I leave them outside the door, taking one for myself. The rain is very light, and there are moments I where I wonder if it's stopped.
I know that Carl's Jr. fast food place is a half mile away, as I checked out Mapquest a month ago for distances to places we frequent. I head there, going through the Fred Meyer parking lot. At the stop light, I check my time: fifteen minutes. I head back, and decide to try the canal road.
All ends well, as I go down it, find the gate open, and go up on the parkway, down to Reed Lane, and then back through the complex to the apartment, stopping to pick up the mail, which includes envelopes from my mom and youngest sister, addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan B__" and "Sarah and Jonathan B___."
Back at the apartment, it is still dark. In a few moments, my oldest comes in, as she went to the store while I was gone.
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