Several projects are calling. Pick me, pick me. I scan the table around me, pale pink sunglasses, a clear footed glass with imprints of bees fluttering up the side, a straw probing the air, a straw, brilliant if their is a giant whole in your gums from where an aching tooth was removed. A Black ball point pen rapped in three colors of yarn, my little girl has been here, a picture of “Paris and Faces” a collage of “Dark Stars.” The end of May the students strip the walls and make the school look lifeless for when they leave and the beaches call them. It’s a Thursday in May. I sit with a moment of thought. How lucky I am to wake to a new day. How lucky I can sit at my laptop. How lucky I am to sit here in a clean pair of underwear not taking for granted I have cream for my coffee, I can use my own washer, no quarters, no waiting. I can use the shampoo that makes my hair silkier yet, I still keep in check by alternating when it runs out, choosing the shampoo that is on the Safeway Club card special. In this life I have tasted AA coffee, I have seen a large pool of blood spilled on pavement in a church parking lot, I have felt love so devastatingly deep it ached to be anywhere but next to him. I have felt sadness so deep I yelled towards the sky. I have felt joyfully speechless as a warm surprise pink faced bundle was swaddled and presented “A GIRL!” against all predictions. Today, I observe the gentle messages around me. I open my heart to the way Thursday is not just another day, but one with meaning if I live it as if it matters.