Today was a good day. Even though it started with Conor feeling crummy.

I let him stay home. He watched a lot of Futurama. And we ordered Tropical Smoothie. And he put away his laundry and finished his homework (he found a mistake in a math question) and read so he could play Fortnite.

And I let him play past the promised hour and then we made dinner (salads and our favorite smashed potatoes – it’s easy to cook for 2) and we ate and watched Taskmaster and I drank some wine a friend brought me.

(For the record, if you want to bring something to me, wine is a very good way to show your love. Reds especially.)

I eased back in to work today – emails and catch up, mostly – but what a fantastic distraction. It’s a privilege to genuinely like your work. And I’m so proud of my board for being supportive and to my team for just figuring it the heck out.

My board chair, a dear friend, went so far as to say, “We’ve got this. Let us do this for you.” And by george, they did.

I had therapy, too. I walked outside and got sunburned, but we talked and she let me vent and I felt better afterwards. Validated. Lifted.

And I finished mapping out Conor’s summer and signed him up for surf camp in Wilmington, so he can surf and I can sit on the beach and write.

Our friend sent us a Lego art project and we ordered Tropical Smoothie for lunch.

Today was the first day where we sort of found a rhythm that was just me and Conor. I didn’t make him go to school. We relaxed the rules. We ate on the couch.

He’s good company, that kid. And yes, he’s feeling much better.

Sun and support and potatoes and wine reminds me that – true to my promise to Preston – we’ll be OK.