Awake

Awake

Waking up has been hard. Mid-March, it was easy to begin the day early, optimistic that I was saving gas, relieved that I didn’t have to necessarily cross my Ts or dot my Is appearance-wise to do my work well, secure in the knowledge that I could stay home and not dive nose first into pandemic-related catastrophe. On the frivolous side: no frantic order packing before I had to rush off to make a reasonable commute, no scramble to find an unwrinkled shirt or make sure I didn’t wear the same pants 3 days in a row, no routine pressure to fluff in eyelashes or somehow try to make my hair look like it had been washed in the last few days.

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Reflections on a weekend

Reflections on a weekend

The Bad:
lost an expensive end for my conch piercing, our “fuck you COVID” takeout picnic did not go as planned, everything is still a dystopian nightmare, I took a floating break from social media don’t want to return to social media again

The Good:
my conch piercing didn’t close, I ordered puzzle books and book books, I got these beautiful flowers from Brave that Bob has not destroyed, my hair is rose goldish, and I took a floating break from social media don’t want to return to social media again

Together

Together

What a marvel and a feat, aligning your life with someone else’s. To not just love, but to choose in the big ways and the small ones. Seeing the shine of them with the shadows, too, and thinking: yes. This is what we build on. Not just you, and not just me. Here we go, as we have for so long, still hand in hand, your feet falling in step next to mine, stumbling into the world together.