Next Monday will be March which I bet many people are excited about. Maybe you are one of them. I have no strong feelings either way. In the past, I may have been wistful that February was already over because that’s how I always felt when things came to their natural end. I’d probably think I can’t believe the year is going so fast as if I hadn’t done or seen or accomplished anything thus far.
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One of those Nights
It’s one of those nights where it’s not even 9:30 and I keep yawning. A part of me thinks I should go to bed early and another part of me thinks I’d like to stay up all night and sit at my desk, writing and drinking whisky just like Francoise does in She Came to Stay. That’s how you’d find me when the sun came up in the morning: with sleep in my eyes and tousled hair, tired but satisfied.
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Baking in the Real World
Lately, I’ve been trying to get into baking. I shouldn’t say trying because I think I’m actually doing it. I like baking. Or at least, I think I do. Maybe I just like eating whatever I bake, or maybe I like the smell of it, or maybe I like that baking makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something and that I’m somehow better than I was when I didn’t bake.
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Pretending to Like Museums
I used to think I should like museums because smart people like museums and I wanted to be smart. When travel ‘must-do’ lists said to visit this museum or that museum, I bought a ticket, and waited in long lines, and went. I went because that’s what I thought I was supposed to do. It turns out I’ve done a lot of things in my life simply because I thought I was supposed to. And I’ve developed a lot of opinions about things because that’s how I thought I was supposed to feel about them.
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What We Feel
Friday is for sausage rolls and staring out the window and buying toilet paper and drinking whisky. It’s also for afternoon walks and almost slipping on ice and wearing bright yellow sweaters with baggy jeans.
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‘As Fine as a Bee’s Wing’
A bee’s wing is delicate. It’s fragile like glass figurines in a china cabinet, the kind you see in stores accompanied by signs that say ‘you break it, you pay for it.’ A heart is fragile too. It can be carelessly handled and then shattered, lying in shards on a cold floor. But a heart doesn’t come with a ‘you break it, you pay for it’ sign so it seems easier to get away with breaking a heart than it does with breaking a glass figurine. Maybe because a glass figurine has a price tag attached to it and a heart is just a heart.
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Snow and Windows
When I woke up this morning and drew back the curtain, it was snowing. The cobbled streets were lightly dusted. Little snowflakes, tiny and delightful, were swirling in the air as though someone in the sky was gently sprinkling icing sugar onto the earth.
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A Delivery Fee
Last night, I ordered fried chicken for dinner. It was greasy, crunchy, and delicious and I enjoyed every bite of it as I watched Stranger Things. But that’s not the point of this story. The point is that the restaurant was a 12 minute walk away and I paid for my food to be delivered.
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But Mostly, It’s Wonderful
Things are happening. Wonderful things that are also a little terrifying. Much like the storm that is raging outside my window right now. It’s wonderful because it’s strong and alive and reminds me that there are forces at play, greater than I can even imagine. And it’s terrifying for the very same reasons.
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Things I Learned Growing Up 