Writing out my feelings.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Read MoreI can just see the shimmer of pirate fireworks going off across Western Avenue through my office window; there are explosions in the distance from every direction. Our festivities are long over for the day: We gathered to eat, drink, and sweat through our clothes with family — responsibly distanced…
Read MoreIt’s not yet 7 a.m., and the world is waking up beyond the sanctuary of my back deck. Birds start their morning chirping hellos at one another, cloistered and invisible among the leaves. Western Avenue hums. In spite of the drama during last week’s farmers market, I came home with…
Read MoreI was the only person wearing a mask this morning when I walked to the post box to send a birthday card. We got bored of this pandemic. It’s not our problem anymore; let’s grab a cocktail. During shelter in place, the city padlocked the playground in Welles Park. Every…
Read MoreLife descended into misery quickly and aggressively. It’s 96 days, give or take several hours, since my self-imposed shelter in place order began — though I wouldn’t describe my existence as a lockdown or quarantine these days. Phase 3 of Chicago’s COVID-19 reopening started June 3, I think, in the…
Read MoreI nearly made it out of the grocery store for under $100 (nearly, because the checkout guy forgot to ring up my chicken-apple sausage the first time around). This means one of several things: I am now a grocery-shopping sensei I actually bought $55 worth of groceries on Friday afternoon…
Read MoreI have dreams that I’m yelling at people for not covering their faces when they’re out in public. In my waking hours, I’m too tired to do anything but bore holes into the backs of their unprotected heads with my raging stare. (Or, when I do yell, it’s behind rolled-up…
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Hi. You've somehow happened on my blog — or I guess that's what we called it in The Before Times™.
If you read my writing in said Before Times, you'll remember it as…lighter. More of a romp.
These days, writing "for myself" is something I do to get the lead out of my heart, to process how I'm feeling, to exorcise something that won't leave my brain.
It's something I do sporadically.
If it's something that resonates with you, I'm so glad. Welcome.
