A Door Once Opened
Yesterday was the first day of Spring.
Today is the anniversary of the last time I saw my dad fully alive.
Author: Rhiannon Giles
Flying Solo, Values, and Bioluminescence
I’ve never read or watched anything Marie Kondo, but there is one thing I know for sure — there are tons of things that spark joy that are really shitty choices for you in the long run. It’s completely possible she addresses this directly, but as I said, I just know the catchphrase and its shortcomings.
The Flu, Values, and the Belated Utilization of Therapy
This past week has tested the resolve of my Wellbutrin. The flu came to visit and got each of us in turn. Lorelei was patient zero — we all had flu shots months ago and got Tamiflu quickly after I took her in for a flu test, so it was overall not as bad as it could have been.
On Resolutions, Failure, and Perfectionism
Tonight, everyone will resolve to do better for the next trip around the sun. We’ll pick ourselves apart, looking for the ways we are supposedly failing: Eating too much, drinking too much, not exercising enough.
The Ghosts of Christmas Past and The Grief in Christmas Present
I get a lot of sympathetic head tilts when I mention working on Christmas Eve or the days between Christmas and New Year. I think some judge the adultiness of a job by things like not going to work for two weeks at the end of the year. I appear to have the job of a real adult, so nobody thinks that maybe I’d rather save my vacation time for summer when it’s nice outside. In all honesty, I love this week at work. It’s so quiet. The expectations are low. I can wear jeans and eat leftovers and nobody asks me for things, unless it’s to eat this piece of cake. This is the week when I organize my office or rearrange the file room.
Here’s the Good News I Promised!
I always have mixed feelings about the winter solstice — on one hand it means winter is officially here, but on the other hand it’s the beginning of the end of winter. I know, it’s confusing to me, too.
Look for the Helper Fairies
I have a beer fairy.
Let me back up for a minute. During the Great Depression of 2018, I realized that keeping alcohol at home was a terrible idea. A beer here and there is no problem, but when I would buy a six pack I tended to self destruct — I won’t get into all the details, but suffice it to say it was bad enough to make my therapist give me her cell phone number.