change of seasons

Rose and I have decided that we become better people at the beginning of the month. I feel like I’ve been giving the creative process attachment issues. I haven’t written anything interesting in like...a month?

Last Saturday I got high and walked around the lake until my feet hurt. I facetimed Elyse and she said my hair clip made me look like every other bitch (of course she sent the TikTok to confirm).

I randomly started crying and wrote a journal entry that was somewhat of an homage to everything I wrote in high school (not even joking I said that I wanted to Virginia Woolf myself to the bottom of Lake Michigan...after being inside the actor’s studio I can confirm that FOMO, insecurity, and self-loathing are the secret to an Oscar-worthy performance of adolescent theatrics).

My midday sob was exasperated by playing Phoebe Bridger’s “Smoke Signals” on repeat. Is that self-harm or a healthy release of bottled-up emotions? Maybe both? ...that’s for a therapy session you don’t have to know or care about.

After breaking down and going to bed too early, I’ve been honestly having the time of my life this week. Elyse and I have a rule: before we do anything dramatic we have to drink water, eat something, and go to bed. It sucks while it’s happening but you always feel a little bit more like a person the next day.

Work at the school has been fun, I had my first trivia show at Nō Studios, I started working as a beta reader for Blue Shades Publishing, AND I finished editing the podcast episode from legiterally a month ago. Please listen to the podcast...eye think it’s really funny.

I’ve also been going for hour-long walks after work so maybe the vitamin D and serotonin are making me quote-unquote happy? But because of my sordid love affair with disordered eating, even this isn’t a guaranteed source of joy. Sometimes I’m like, am I only doing this because my worm brain wants to be skinny? Am I listening to podcasts on these walks so I don’t have to think for a minute of my life?

People keep telling me I need to brace myself for winter. A coworker told me that I need a scarf, gloves, a hat, a blizzard coat, and a cuddle buddy if I want to have any hopes of making it to spring. So, that’s my little SOS to anyone interested in being besties from the end of October to the end of March. I can promise instability and laughter.

I don’t know about y’all, but I am ready to absolutely go balls to the walls with Christian Girl Autumn. I got my first paycheck and immediately ordered two sweaters. If my calves weren’t the size of tree trunks I would take the plunge into an ironic return of skinny jeans and brown leather riding boots (if y’all know of any quality plus-sized boots...let a girl know...because I am tired of my legs being asphyxiated by sample size knee-high boots). Is this a fashion blog now?

So my brain is actually fried and I want to go grocery shopping before the day ends so I’ll wrap everything up now. Sorry, this isn’t an interesting post. I’ll try to make more astute observations this week and compose a hilarious and lyrical piece on the liminality of being alive.

Should I be a young mom?