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It’s 5:40AM as I start writing this. I’ve been up for an hour and a half because… aging? Anxiety about all the things I “have” to do? This is where I check myself and reframe the self-talk with, “No, these are things I GET to do.” Because the most valuable thing we have is time, right? Every day I open Facebook and see that another famous person from my youth has died too young. Which maybe explains why I’m suddenly dreaming about guys in ska bands I had crushes on 25 years ago? LOL if you thought I was gonna name names.
The still-caffeinating point is something about the multiple daily reminders re: how short life is. And how, now that I have what amounts to three jobs, I need – get! – to be militant about time management, setting my oven timer to bang out an hour of work for this group, an hour of work for that one, before I run out to meet my next client and run these three errands this afternoon because there’s a fun thing happening tonight that I don’t want to miss and and and … <still wondering how people with kids handle it all> … it’s a lot, but I’m LUCKY I get to do all this stuff. To feel like my work has some redeeming social value, like I’m actually contributing to something other than shareholder value. To be healthy enough to do it in the first place. It’s fucking awesome.
But I no longer have Wednesdays “off” to fuck around trying to write something that makes sense here. Which means there will be days – like today! – where I have limited time and ideas, where I’m not feeling particularly creative or like I’ve had some kind of mental breakthrough where readers would be like, duh, we figured that shit out in our 20s, where have you been.
So instead of waiting until Wednesday to write, this is me promising myself that the next time I feel like I have something interesting to say, I’ll hit pause on all the other shit and, at the very least, bang out a draft.
But right now I gotta get ready for work and clean the bathroom because my hair is (temporarily) half pink and my bathtub looks like a crime scene.
Good stuff
- “Fat shaming is just bullying. And bullying only makes the problem worse.” Fuck Bill Maher. All love to James Corden – who could have been SO much meaner in this. (YouTube)
- 8 things leaders do that make employees quit sounds way too familiar. (HBR)
- I really wanted to work for Third Love, because I love their bras, would get a discount, and the office is 1.5 blocks from my front door. Looks like I dodged a bullet. (Vox)
- Maybe the Third Love CEO just has tiny balls? (Vice)
- An iPhone 11 Pro review for dog owners. (Buzzfeed)
- 2019 comedy wildlife photography awards. (Official site)
- The perfect recipe for the perfect midlife crisis. (The Girlfriend)
- Rollerskating and friendship. (NYT Interactive)
- If you have a few bucks you can part with, Bitch magazine needs help. (Official site) Here is what Anne-Helen Peterson (the Buzzfeed reporter who wrote that piece on millennial burnout and is one of my favorite writers) wrote on Facebook: "Bitch practices what it preaches when it comes to intersectional feminism. It is the real fucking deal, and print is one of the ways it gets on the radar of thousands of burgeoning feminists who might not encounter it otherwise. Bitch commissioned and nurtured my first feature. Bitch PAYS ITS WRITERS ON TIME. Bitch endured the height of postfeminism. And today, it has been a true pleasure to watch Bitch evolve under the editorial oversight of Evette Dionne. To me it matters less whether you, personally read Bitch and more whether you think Bitch is a publication you really want to exist in the world. I do, and I donate."
For next week
Keep the questions for Svetlana coming. Eventually I will include some answers from here. In the meantime: I’m having a debate with my therapist about fate. Context: The first 8-9 months of this year were spectacularly shitty for me, and then all-of-a-sudden my life is pretty fantastic. I caught a few breaks, have newfound freedom and stability, and things are looking WAY up. Was this fate? She is adamant there is no such thing. I’m… not so sure? And, frankly, a little reluctant to question anything, for fear I might jinx my good luck. But I’m wondering what you think. Is “fate” a real thing that has determined any part of your life? Or is that a cop-out, a way to explain away good and bad things, to reduce the amount of responsibility you have to take for your own life/decisions? Or maybe there’s a middle ground? I’m hoping your responses will give me new and different ways to think about this stuff. As always, you can respond directly to this email and anything I share will be anonymous.
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