The skies outside are dark, but my eyes are wide awake. The jet lag interferes with my sleep; in just a few hours, I’ll need a nap.

I wander to the balcony. Waves crash in the distance while little finches and chickadees chirp. Soon the sun will come, but I have energy to burn now.

I slip on sneakers and shorts…and a shirt too…and head down to the lobby. A few other jet lagged souls stumble around, trying to figure out if it is night or day.

I take a sip from my water bottle. Do I walk or sit and relax? Too much energy and too stiff to sit anymore, although by looking at me, you’d never know.

I set out on the paved path along the shore. The night lasts a little longer. Then I see the deep blue lighten up; dawn approaches.

I turn back. The walk back to the resort is shorter than the walk out. I find a seat and enjoy the birds as the rest of the world wakens.

In the distance I see rain over Lanai while the morning light dances on Molokai’s East shore. Occasional mist droplets reach my legs, but not enough to call it rain.

Joggers and walkers make their way on the path I already took. Others with coffee in hand take a seat, ready to watch morning come.

Lawnmowers start up, more birds join in on the cacophony. So much for a peaceful sunrise!No worries, it’s good to see the world awake. Time for breakfast, then I need a nap!

Mind racing, but it’s time to relax.

Dizzying thoughts swirl, while motion sways,

All this movement throws me off all balance,

And the body surrenders.

Finally, finding footing once more,

But still the mind pounds, and the unease remains.

Did I forget something;

did I leave anything undone;

What if I forgot something…

But there’s no going back now.

Too many miles from home,

And no way to fix things at work for two weeks;

How will I survive this time away?

Will I make it through my anxiety of travel?

Breath in. Breath out. Repeat.

Maybe relaxation will begin when we arrive;

Maybe then this weight will finally lift.

Stress building, piling on unnecessarily.

Vacation is coming, but demands at work demand.

It is time to walk away from the chaos,

It is time my brain had a moment.

I’m making mistakes due to overload,

And losing my cool, truth be told.

Maybe this isn’t for me after all,

Let me study data and chart out the needs,

All this management just feeds my anxiety.

The break can’t come soon enough,

And I know I’ll just be so nervous while I am gone.

But, I need the break, my mind is taxed.

It’s almost time for me just to relax!

Bagels…

Now, don’t get me wrong. The taste of an everything bagel with a fried egg, bacon and Swiss is delicious for breakfast. It’s especially divine when someone else makes it and serves it to me with a lovely London Fog – Island style.

But, still, I hate everything bagels.

Their oniony smell permeates all other bagel flavors when buying a bakers dozen. No one likes to bite into their cinnamon crunch and taste onion!

Their poppy seeds and sesame seeds litter the counter. No matter how much I wipe, more appear even when no bagels had been consumed.

The scent of the bagel wafts through the air, even when it is only sourdough slices being toasted up. That scent invades my nostrils when I’m only wanting a whiff of fresh bread.

But still, the bag ends up in the basket whenever we run low. It’s a staple I can’t avoid. I hate everything….bagels.

I’m addicted. Not necessarily to eating it, but more to making it. Slowly, it is becoming a Sunday ritual.

First comes the garlic. I slide the papery covered cloves into a tube and roll until they release. Then I work my knife all around until it is finely chopped. I’ve also done the whole “rub the bowl” with a clove trick. I slide the garlic to one corner of the chopping board.

Next, I ready the lime. Sliced in half, I put half to the side and slice 4 wedges. Lime just smells so fresh…and helps neutralize the garlic a little on my fingers.

Now, the onion. I probably should do this before the lime. Maybe next time. I slice and dice it into little bits. The purple is pretty next to the creamy white garlic and the bright green lime.

Now, tomato! My serrated knife makes quick work to seed the tomatoes then slice and dice into perfect little chunks.

Next, some sprigs of cilantro. I go a little light with just two stalks. Rinse, pat dry, and chop it up. The chopping block is full of color now.

I pull out the cotija cheese to add at the end, and some salt. I also pull out the adobo san pimento as an extra hit of flavor.

All this chopping has relaxed me. I pull out the bowl and now it’s finally time. I grab the slim cado, a large smooth skinned avocado, and cut it in two. I remove the pit and segment the flesh, then scoop it out into the bowl.

Now the fun part. First, I squeeze the lime over the avocado and give it a toss. Then, I grab the smasher and begin mashing away. The yellow highlights blend in with the green meat.

I sprinkle in some adobo and salt, then grab a spoon and slide the blend of cuttings from the chopping block into the bowl. I stir everything lightly, blending all the flavors. Finally I break off a piece of cotija and crumble it atop the guacamole.

Now it’s ready to serve. I smile as I dish it out into mini bowls, then tightly cover the rest with cling wrap before putting it in the fridge.

Who knew making guacamole would be such a zen experience?!

She grimaced as she sat down. The black cape was securely snapped in place. She held up her phone showing her the picture.

“It’s time.”

“Shampoo cut and style?”

She nodded and followed her to the sink. A nice scalp massage and squeeze dry, then it was back to the chair.

She didn’t want to watch as the inches of curls fell away. Nine months of trying to grow it out, but it just wouldn’t cooperate. It should have been ponytail ready for the coming heatwaves, but the sides just refused.

“It came back in nicely though. The medicine is working.”

She smiled back, but realized long locks were never to be again. Her shoulders couldn’t handle the time it took to straighten it, and her hair was really too thin.

The stylist trimmed around her ears. A flash of white caught her eye.

“Wow, that is bright!”

“It’s a pretty grey,” she assured her, “It will be much cooler too!”

She knew, and she was tired of the disheveled look her curls usually brought.

A blow-dry, a few stray trims, and it was done.

“Thanks!”

She smiled at the mirror into her sleeker, more in-charge look. Her head felt lighter and her neck felt the cool air once again. She was sad at undoing all her hard work, but glad to have a fresh look at the same time.

The floor around her was littered with her failure, but at least it wasn’t her on her head, serving up a constant reminder. She settled up and walked out with a new outlook.

She typed a text to him, but paused.

She let the cursor flash.

The miles between them seemed to grow.

She didn’t know why this ebb and flow happened.

It was always around her birthday it seemed.

And would last for weeks or months at times.

She frowned. She didn’t understand.

But she didn’t want to be a burden.

She backed up the cursor, clearing out the text.

Closed the session and put her phone down.