You know how you pick up a bad habit and at first it feels awesome, and you’re like, “Why did I not start doing this earlier?!?” and you want to do it all the time, and you begin to redefine who you are based in part on the fact that you are now a participant in this particular bad habit and what that means for you, practically and philosophically. And then eventually you start feeling…
You know that thing where people write their past selves a letter? Sometimes I think about doing that, and it would be sassy and start off with something like “You think things are going to get less complicated, girly? Well, think again!” Except it would have to end there because Present Me has no real wisdom to impart to Past Me, except maybe try to be nicer, because apparently I am an asshole. This blog…
If you people had any idea how I spent my free time and my idle thoughts…
My mom and I took Holden to a nice new park in Savannah for its grand opening weekend. We were there to meet up with T, a close friend I’ve had since third grade. I never get to see her and she’d never met Holden, so this reunion was long overdue. The reunion came and went too quickly and I had to get my grumpy, overheating 2.5-year-old back to the car. On the way out,…
One of the bestworst things about being the owner of my brain is that I am usually at my most prolific and creative when I feel a festering knot of sadness in my gut. Ain’t that some shit?
This might be true but it’s also true that the Universe’s hook will cut you in soft, vulnerable, fleshy spots you only thought you had hidden and protected. And the discovery of those cuts will make you really fucking sad. And make you realize you have a lot of work to do to get those spots toughened up, guarded, cut out of you entirely.
I’m in a nasty mood. I’ve been sick for-fucking-ever and today had a coughing fit so violent that I puked. Twice. Yeah. This week was rough (new work gig; manageable but a tough transition while feeling this shitty). I miss my cats (long story; maybe I will write about it eventually). I am eaten up with worry about things that are utterly out of my hands. Holden’s sick too and seems miserable all night long,…
She can be cold and she can make you sweat one hell of an existential sweat, but she will come through at the right time with the right hook to keep you turning the page.
Equal parts acid bath and warm, honeysuckle-smelling hug. You never know what you might get and if you’re lucky or unlucky you might get a dose of both in the same breath. It’s not for everyone, I know.
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