My day

Maria and I exchanged texts today about how the day was going and how pick-up went at preschool. We basically can read each other's mind at this point, so our correspondence is brief. As I signed off with a "thanks!" I realized I should focus my attention back on my organization's board meeting, given I was just about to speak about Openlands' fundraising goals for the coming year.

I'm very aware of my many worlds lately and my traversing from one to the next.  I start the morning in a sleepy state, often waking up to a cat sleeping on my pillow and a preschooler, clad in Buzz Lightyear pjs, elbowing me. Minutes later, I have my infant daughter tucked under my arm as I'm trying to pour my first cup of coffee for the day.

I'm at school with Jack for the morning drop-off, watching him play with his friends, trying to figure out which one is Oscar, whom he talks about at home. I say hello to my fellow mommys and we discuss our concerns about the kids playing outside in the courtyard next to the busy Michigan Avenue. I give Jack one last hug before dashing for the bus.

The bus gives me five minutes to be by myself. I check my email; I look out the window; I think about my day. As I walk the two blocks to my office from the bus stop, I notice a businessman playing a game of chess with a homeless man.

I'm at work, talking grant proposal deadlines, donor cultivation and stewardship and someone's net worth. My workplace is comfortable; I forget to change out of my sneakers for the entire day, and that's okay. One of Jack's watercolor paintings decorates my office.  Things are stressful as we discuss budgets and the new year.

I'm at home for the evening - where the real marathon begins. Dinner, baths, bedtimes, cleaning up of toys and resetting the house for a new day. Sometimes we open a bottle of wine and sometimes I blog.

Where did today take you?