These days


  • march 21

    Yesterday I did not feel much like living after work. It was, by all accounts, a shitty day. The week of picking up extra work, all day emergency vet trips, and not seeing my love as much as usual had left me emotionally saturated. In the midst of vet bills money because unreal and so…

  • march 20

    It’s coming up on 8am. Cardamom and cinnamon are layered into the coffee grounds. The silver stove-top percolator starts clapping it’s lid. The smell of the the three fills the kitchen. I’ve characteristically over extended myself. In the next few weeks, on top of my full time work doing communications for an environmental advocacy non-profit,…

  • march 19

    There are two pots on the stove. One thin bottomed silver stock pot and a green enamel Creuset K and E got me for my birthday last year. The first is filled with frozen vegetable scraps and the second with dried white beans, garlic, a bay leaf. It’s Sunday and I’m making stock, the start…

  • march 16

    My back is seizing up, a tightness when I breathe deep or move quickly. Too much time on the computer, sitting in all the wrong places. The lumpy futon, hard dining room chair. All hunched. Compacting. The vertebrae can’t breathe. The muscles talk back. I am 34, I think. I am here hunched and writing…

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