I should know better.

I drank some tea that was not decaf. At 9 pm. Not a good idea if you want to go to sleep.

I looked down at my hands today and realized that they look like my mom's hands. When I was a kid, I would hold her hand up and inspect it, expecting to find the answers to life's questions. Sometimes I did. Sometimes I didn't. My mother is a teacher. She doesn't make a lot of money and she works her hands to death. Cleaning faces, writing on boards, turning pages all day. I can't believe I have those hands now, those 25-year-old hands. I wonder when Addy will start inspecting my hands, looking for answers or just comfort. I hope they will provide both. I hope my nursing hands will get a lot of use. You can learn a lot about a person by looking at their hands. A man that worked outside his whole life has very different hands than a woman who shops at Nordstrom's when she's bored. On the bus are many hands that have worked hard. I am proud to say that my hands blend in on the bus. They are not out of place, overgroomed, over-diamonded, or neatly manicured. They are my daughter's hands, my mother's hands, my hands.