Sorry. I’ve already called the wahmbulance and they told me to buck up and stop wasting taxpayer money. I’m happy to have so many people to love that I feel stretched thin. It’s not a bad problem to have, in any way.
I spent a lot of time this year working on a project that more or less fizzled out when I realized it was not going to make it. It was one of those projects that took over everything in my head, one where I thought, “Yeah, this is the one. This is going to change everything.” And then it’s not the one and it doesn’t change everything, and that’s okay. It stings a little to…
I’m going to dive right in to something I’ve been contemplating writing about for a long time but haven’t had the courage. Because it’s embarrassing and gross. And I tend to only want to write about embarrassing, gross things in past tense with a dollop of self-deprecating humor once I’ve safely moved on. But this is a present-tense thing I’m struggling with and it’s not over yet. I know some others caught in this cycle…
I stayed home from work today. Blame it on not getting home from work until 1 a.m. and then being up half the remaining night with an angry stomach. I have powered through days on three hours of sleep more times than I care to recount but today it was not happening. I fed my baby breakfast and kept him away from sharks and live wires until naptime, and then I went back to bed.…
My mind is this great humming butter churn of a thing, moving unformed chunks of ideas around slowly and with great struggle. I have nothing to write about. It is driving me fucking bonkers. I have been sitting here staring at this screen, trying to make it happen, trying to remember something, anything, worth sharing and I have nothing. Everything is extremely mundane. I can’t just write about my kid all the time, cool as…
Put $40 in pocket. Ugh, these pants look terrible. Change stupid pants. Go to work. Put $5 dinner on credit card. Never find $40 again.
I used to have the urge to write all the time, just to indulge those itchy fingers and get those mundane thoughts out into the ether, get them out of me. Now I spend a lot of time thinking about sitting down to write something and then thinking about what I would write and getting SO FUCKING BORED with myself. I have nothing to add to the conversation at large. I never did, probably, but…
I joked week before last about us having to adopt a new system at work because at the time I thought it would be a few curse words and a few chuckles and then we’d get on with our lives and just make do, but every day at work since last Monday has been the worst day of my life, and I wish I was exaggerating but I’m actually being entirely serious and, yes, I…
When I was a kid I thought Labor Day was the day all the babies were born. Except me. Because, you know, I was born on Jesus’ birthday instead. Let’s all join hands and send these positive directives into the universe: Do not use the word “hate” when you mean “hatred.” Do not use the word “impact” when you mean “affect.” Do not say “regime” when you mean “regimen.” I just wrote a long diatribe…
I want him to know that I tried really, really hard.
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