I remember sleeping through the night. I remember when I didn’t wake up at 3:17 am and lay awake for hours and hours trying not to remember. I remember when I didn’t lock my doors. Or keep my car in the garage. Or pull the curtains at night so no one could see in. I remember in the before, when I didn’t shop in a different town in a different
Flypaper: a sticky situation
Flypaper dangles from the rafters of the barn, swaying in the breeze and sticking to my hair when I forget to duck away from it, and I am left to peel it off hair, shirt, or shoulders, leaving teeny-tiny fly body parts stuck to my clothes, fingers, and scalp, like corpse glitter long after the party is over. The strips hang like toffee-colored party streamers, a ploy to attract pesky
Ode to a Pandemic: shadows on the wall
Instead of milk and bread before a storm, I rush to Newtown Color Center for paint and spackle, hoping to fill my time and thwart the impending pandemic before it strikes hold and renders me useless. They match a gallon to the original color, Serene Sky, to brighten a dull family room, and I’m off, to spackle dings left by nooks and crannies that come with rooms well lived, cover
Your email does not find me well
Did everyone feel this lonely before the “new normal” settled in? Back when Dunkin Donuts, Target, and State Farm were selling their wares, instead of peace, empathy, and positivity for these uncertain times? And if we are supposed to be sheltering in place, staying at home, shutting down all non-essential businesses (as we should be), how did all these brands and their subsequent ad agencies rally the big empathy push