The heat has been terrible, nearly intolerable, but today is forecast to be slightly cooler and then, thank goodness, the weekend temperature is supposed to peak in the 70s. I don't have much stamina left for 90-degree days in a house without air conditioning. Still, I did manage to sleep well last night, even with the box fan on high and pointed directly at my face, and had complex dreams about having to share an emergency bedroom at the Whole Foods with a family of friendly strangers from Kentucky.
I finished that editing project yesterday, and thus today (after I endure my exercise class) will be devoted to reading and writing and any other little thing I feel like doing. I do have a Zoom meeting in the afternoon, and as always I've got garden chores to deal with, but the bulk of the day is mine to spend as I wish.
I'm not ignoring the bad news, though I am struggling to speak about it. The situation in Afghanistan is horrifying, the anti-vaccination goons make me shriek, but little good things are happening too: Paul called yesterday to say that he got a job (hurray!), my nephew is moving into his freshman dorm room this morning (after an arduous trip from Vermont to Minnesota), the Red Sox won a game (a rare event these days), and I made a delicious chicken salad with tomatoes and melon.
And today I am going to write a new poem draft. Maybe two new drafts. Maybe three.