“In Whatsoever State…”

It’s really effing hot in my house. The A/C is out and has been since Thursday night.

Don’t worry – there is a home warranty and even if it weren’t to be covered under the warranty, I can afford a new A/C. They’ve been out to look at it, but couldn’t schedule the follow-up right away, and it needed to thaw out before they could diagnose it. That’s right, it froze despite being outside in the desert summer.

Also, keep in mind there is currently an extreme weather warning here for excessive heat.

The dishwasher is also having issues, which is great since I feel the need to wash every single dish before using it, in case they got dirty during the move.

With my excessive arm strength, I snapped one of my kitchen cabinet doors… yeah, I snapped the wood.

The internet transfer was not smooth, so I have two internet providers at the moment.

I haven’t quite moved the last of my stuff, so that’s haunting me.

I ordered plantation shutters, but they don’t come in for 3-4 more weeks, so I’ve got temporary window coverings that are obnoxious. In order to make it completely dark in my bedroom, I essentially made it impossible to open the windows, which was fine until the A/C went out. That’s right – I’m bourgeois enough for plantation shutters.

I need to run 6 miles this weekend in order to train for my upcoming races, but it’s really hard to run for an hour in the heat, knowing I will be returning to the heat in my house. So I haven’t gone. I’m really hoping it gets repaired tomorrow, so I can run tomorrow afternoon.

I’m not feeling like I bought a lemon… but I just had these images in my head of what this house was going to be, and most of my plans had to do with the house feeling restful.

It doesn’t feel restful.

I feel like an absolute brat for feeling all of this, because these are silly, first-world problems. Like – I just bought a house and I’m going to feel sorry for myself? Also, the Bible…

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:11-13

I’m trying to find contentment, but I’m really struggling to cope, if I’m honest.

Moose has gone blind, by the way, so moving into a new house with him has been just great. He runs into things constantly. He falls off the bed and the couch. I asked the vet about getting him cataract surgery and she looked at me like I’m a lunatic, but good grief… the old guy already takes three different heart meds, a pain med, and now you think I’m going to be able to fix his blindness with drops I can only get in his eyes by sneaking up on him and ambush-dropping them with excellent aim from a high height. And he’s potentially not a bad candidate right now, but if we wait very long at all, my expectation is that he will be super high-risk for anesthesia.

I’m set to go to trial in a month, which I’m not complaining about. It’s a great opportunity. it’s a pretty serious case, so I’m second chair. I’m loving working with the lead attorney on the case. He’s so good at his job. He’s aggressive and cocky, but also so fun. And skilled. And really has shown me a lot of kindness.

But going to trial is really stressful.

I have so many hopes for my house. It’s representative of so many things. Some of it is that I’m just enthused to have my own place again. Some of it is that feeling of stability and rest and home. And community. I really want to have people over and host my mom in the winters.

I want to transform the backyard. I want to redo the bathrooms. I may plant a garden. I live super close to nature – I’m 1.5 miles from a trailhead. I have these visions of walking the dogs with my mom at sunset. The sunsets here are amazing. I’ve found a church I’m going to try out. I finally jumped on-board with Costco and got a membership. I have visions of painting again. And writing. And doing yoga. And cooking in this house.

But it’s so effing hot.

It’s so, so effing hot.

In the past, I’ve been without A/C, and I wasn’t such a big baby about it. In the past, I’ve had so much more of that Pauline contentment in all circumstances.

Where did it go?

How do I find it again?

And when the eff are they going to fix my A/C?

I’m Getting the Same Medal Either Way

There was a moment, years ago, that completely altered the way I view the world.

I had run a number of half marathons over a three or four year period. Running was something I took fairly seriously. I’ve never been fast. I never enjoyed running. I not that sort, but I did it. All the time. Most days.

And then, Steve said something that I latched onto – totally not Steve’s fault, by the way. He was talking about his own mentality with running and it was something along the lines of not caring what his time was, because whether he did a personal best or not, he was getting the same medal either way.

I was on maybe mile 11 of the Arizona Distance Classic. It was a downhill portion of the race and I could have pushed myself for the last two miles and potentially achieved a personal best time for a half marathon. But the thought popped into my head: Why? I’m getting the same medal either way. So, I let myself walk.

Since that moment, it’s been really hard for me to give a shit about much of anything. And, obviously, there are other factors besides that one thought. Also, it’s not like I haven’t been driven since then. I did, after all, get a law degree after that. But I think I used to have an edge to me that’s largely gone. I used to be pretty competitive. I would read an article (about anything… really, anything) and if the article told me that doing something would make my life better, I tried whatever that article said. I even slept with onions in my socks one time, because an article suggested it would help with allergies. It did clear out my sinuses, by the way, but it did so by making my nose drip endlessly for a week.

So… I’m thinking about this, because of the depression I’ve been trying to yank myself out of. I think I’m doing significantly better, by the way. I’m just not 100% or really even very close to 100%.

I was walking out of work yesterday with my boss. Her name is Tatiana. She’s in her forties. Russian, with a thick, thick accent so that sometimes I can’t understand what the eff she’s saying. Some of my co-workers view her as bossy. I haven’t found her to be so, although, I also tend to think… well, she is my boss… Most of the supervisors in the office are pretty laid back, so she sticks out a bit. She drills her people on statutes, gives us homework, that sort of thing.

I’m newly (I think it’s been maybe a month) on her team, so we’re still trying to get to know each other, but I already have a significant admiration for her.

So, we’re walking out of work and headed to the parking garage, and I ask her about her life and this is what I learn:

• She gets up in the 5:00 hour.
• She meditates for fifteen minutes.
• She walks her dog. When she describes her dog, she says she got him “used,” which cracks me up, and he was evidently really overweight. She tried to get him to play and exercise at home, but he refuses, so she drags him on an hour-long walk every morning to keep him from being fat. He hates it.
• She goes to work.
• During lunch, she walks over to the YMCA nearby and does a yoga class.
• Back to work – often works late.
• Home.
• 15 minutes of yard work.
• Possibly an art class. She takes painting classes to engage a different part of her brain.

With each of the things she does, she’s saying something about, “The research shows…” and then she’s adding that, “If you just do it, it will give you like an hour more of energy.”

And then, we get to the parking garage and tells me I’m not allowed to ride the elevator. We are taking the stairs. But, to her, this is NOT truly taking the stairs, because we’re only going up three floors. Taking the stairs would be walking up to our offices on the 22nd floor of our building.

Then she grills me to make sure I’m doing something for my mother for Mother’s Day. Thank God I was on it this year. I’m usually not.

And it was sort of a hilarious walk. Because Tatiana just has her shit so together and she has such a unique way of saying things. And she sort of just tells you exactly what you need to do for any and every situation.

But also, it reminded me of how I used to be, when I was at my best. I was that person you could count on to read her Bible everyday. Go for a run. Journal. Cook real food – without any meat or soy. Walk Moose. Work full time. Go to church. Host or lead a Bible study. Do 1 on 1 discipleship. Paint paintings. Volunteer with pet shelters or Victim Services. I had a ton of close friends. I memorized Bible verses on the daily. For pete’s sake… I was hand grinding my coffee… and not in an electric grinder.

And, you know, I’m just less now. I don’t even drag my ass to the grocery store. I pay exorbitant prices to have Instacart deliver everything to my front door. And DoorDash. I have all of the subscriptions: Imperfect Foods, Jot, MudWater, Farmer’s Dog, Daily Harvest, HelloFresh, StitchFix, Daily Look… No joke, if it can be delivered to my front door, it has been. I have a subscription to a shaving club. They send me razors every six months. It’s insane. I really could get by with only leaving my house to go to work.

And, okay, some of this is a result of Covid. But that excuse really is losing weight nowadays.

Some of it is depression, which, makes sense. I’ve lost a lot over the past several years, and, honestly, I’ve never really gotten over losing Ashly Hilst. So it goes back quite a while.

And I’m now in that season of life where I’m the weird single chick with tattoos and a nose ring, who doesn’t have kids and may never have them. I don’t have cats, so I can’t be a cat lady, but that’s sort of what I feel like I’m becoming.

So, okay, there are reasons and explanations, but I’ve got to find a way to turn this around.

I’ve got to get my ass to the grocery store and it’s no longer good enough for me to get the same medal for walking when I could run. I’ve got to get some of that drive back or I’m going to continue putting on weight and just sitting around waiting for nothing to happen.

I don’t have a specific strategy in mind and I’ve been trying to kick my ass into gear for years… that right, years… so I don’t know if this time is going to be very different, but something’s gotta give.

_____________________

Life Updates:

A former co-worker has encouraged me to apply for a leadership training program with the Arizona State Bar. I’m thinking about doing it, but struggling to commit. It’s out of town, which I think is maybe the only thing that’s stopping me…? We’ll see.

The switch to a new team at work was at my request. I was having some issues (that were contributing to my depression) related to bad juju on the team I was previously on… Without going into it too much, I want to convey the sigh of relief it’s been to get away from it. A handful of people commented on how much happier (and healthier) I looked after the switch, like a light had switched back on within me. I have worries about the fallout from it – I think I may have gotten onto the biggest boss’s shit list, for instance. But it was so impressively bad for 8 months or so. I was right close to quitting, despite feeling like I’m meant to be in the exact job I’m in. Despite loving the office. Admiring so many people within the office. I’m SO glad I didn’t quit. And, honestly, Tatiana is a badass, who has already taught me things that have improved my practice 1000%. Also, I’m transitioning to a new paralegal named Charlee. I had zero issues with Sheryl. She is a paralegal extraordinaire and, in many ways, raised me up from a baby lawyer to the toddler I am now. I am excited to be getting to know Charlee, though. She and I have a lot in common. She quotes the same movies and tv shows as I quote. She’s getting tattooed this weekend. She’s even been the person who wants to sneak out of happy hour early together. So that’s been lovely. Also, I have a bigger, prettier office, with a gorgeous view of A Mountain.

I got a tattoo! It’s big. It’s on my forearm. It’s Barabara Thorson… she’s a comic book fifth grader, who kills giants. I Kill Giants is worth reading, by the way. It may be my all-time fave. It’s not at all a superhero thing. It’s a story about a little girl, who faces giants in her life and, like all of us, has to learn to slay her giants.

I had my two year anniversary at work! Woohoo!

It’s almost summer in the desert. Yuck.

Thea has diarrhea… That’s right, she’s become Diarrhea Thea. But, honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with her. I took her to the vet for it 6 ish months ago. They took a stool sample, tested it, and put her on an antibiotic, but she continues to have issues. It gets better. Then it comes back. She’s a neurotic lunatic, so sometimes I think it’s an emotional/mental issue, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what’s wrong with her. If anyone has had their own Diarrhea Monster, please send me all of the tricks of the trade. All I can think to do is change her food and hope for the best. Eventually, I’ll take her back to the vet, but I don’t know what to do.

And… tomorrow is Mother’s Day. Shout out to all of the moms out there, but most especially, Sharon Erin. She is my closest confidant, my role model, and my best friend. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother.

The Decades-Old Dilemma

Mom is staying with me. She loves to watch The Voice, so we’ve watched a lot of it lately. This thing happened when we were watching this week that gave me an epiphany about the current state of my relationship with God.

When we watch, I make my mom and I each choose one male and one female to win. My mom chose Justin Aaron as her male pick to win. He’s a Christian. Learned to sing in church. Has Gwen Stephani talking about prayer on the show. One of his performances was the song “Break Every Chain.”

It’s a gorgeous performance. Powerful. Bold. Yet, I had a pretty cynical reaction to Justin Aaron and the whole thing.

When Justin gave the above performance, it reminded me of Rosario Butterfield. She was a lesbian who eventually came to believe in Christ. She wrote some books. In one of them, she wrote about the idea of “coming out” as a Christian to her LGBTQ+ community. That community understood the significance of “coming out” moments and it was a disappointment to many of them that she’d changed. I thought the comparison was pretty insightful.

I’ve never really posted about it on the blog, but I also don’t view it as a secret that I am Bi and have experienced the “coming out” moment. I’ve told people who reacted well and I’ve told people who reacted poorly. I’ve felt the vulnerability that comes with it. Some people attach evil to it and some attach attribute. Some of them put disgust on their faces. Some embraced me. Usually, there are questions.

I’ve also had the “coming out” as a Christian moment, and they feel remarkably similar. People react well and poorly. They attribute evil and attribute. They put disgust on their faces and they embrace. They ask questions.

With Justin Aaron, my cynicism was that the show was portraying his faith in a really positive way, but I’m pretty confident he’s received hate mail. Of course, there was also a flamboyant man on the show, demonstrating what are traditionally considered to be feminine traits, and I’m sure he’s also received hate mail.

I couldn’t figure out why I was feeling so cynical about the whole thing and through talking about it with my mom, I realized I’m feeling a pressure at work that I’m projecting onto Justin Aaron and his performances.

The office I work in is pretty far left. It’s the sort of place where it’s assumed we all support the same causes and oppose the same evils. Christianity isn’t directly addressed very often, but I feel an undercurrent… as if my faith is okay, so long as it conforms. So long as it’s moderate and not extreme.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been very self-conscious of my faith. After all, I’ve been blogging about it for my entire adult life. I’ve been “out” and vocal for ages.

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I haven’t been in church or that my current setting is just different from ones in the past, but I feel a pressure I don’t recall feeling since I was a brand new baby Christian.

Being in the church does make it easier to be “out” as a Christian in the workplace… largely because the topic gets normalized.

“What do you have planned for the weekend?” a co-worker might ask.

“I’m going to get together with some friends tonight and then go to church on Sunday. Otherwise, I’ll just be cleaning up around the house.”

So… when you’re active in the church, it just comes up naturally, whereas, I feel like the only time my faith is relevant to conversations at work right now are really charged conversations.

For instance, clients and their families frequently talk about God and how He’s going to work everything out for them. Sometimes they make decisions about what to do with their cases, under the belief that God will keep them from going to prison. My colleagues generally think this is stupidity. I think it’s a little more nuanced than that. I think they should take God into account in the decision-making, although maybe they should not assume God won’t put them in prison, just because He love them. After all, the Bible isn’t exactly absent of the faithful being imprisoned and God planting them there for His purposes.

I don’t feel free to express those kinds of thoughts that way at work. I’m having to reestablish what I even believe about how to present my faith in the workplace. I don’t think my colleagues view me as an asshole Christian, but I also don’t think most of them know I’m a Christian.

I’m disappointed that’s the case. But I’m also afraid of pressing or forcing it. It should come up naturally. I feel a vulnerability and it’s an odd dilemma that I haven’t faced for decades.

Also, sort of peripheral, but connected. I don’t think I’ve done a very good job praying for my clients and colleagues. There are so many of them… I’ve really just prayed for especially challenging cases. But I think I need to make a shift. I need to pray more for all of them and for the ordinary interactions.

The Quiet (lack of) Confidence

I’ve been trying to work up the heart to post for several weeks.

First, I was panicked and exhausted with getting ready for a trial. We lost. It hit me hard.

Then, there was a thing at work that was wholly yuck. It weighs on me, and the place I love really doesn’t feel the same anymore. I still love the job and have that elusive feeling of being exactly where I am meant to be. But something was lost. An esteem. A cohesion.

As a teenager, I got really enamored with the idea that the truest goal of life is to be what we pretend to be. As a result of this idea, I can be very, very judgmental when I perceive certain pretenses – when I perceive someone pretending to be something extraordinarily different from who they are. Power dynamics are an irksome thing to me. I’ve got an excessive hatred of secrets and lies.

Things at work just went the exact wrong kind of wrong for me. I’m trying to let it go, but I’m reminded of Pa Cassida’s, “It’s the principle of the thing.” The stubbornness rooted in idealism. That’s a part of me and how I view the world. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if I could just let it go?

My co-workers said lovely things to me after the trial. Sincere compliments. To some extent, I try not to hear compliments. I prefer to throw the kind words as far away from me as I can when no one’s looking. That makes it sound like I want to think negatively about myself or tear myself down, but I really just think it’s best not to reflect too long on ourselves. It’s best not to even really be aware of ourselves a lot of the time. Not be aware of the way others see us. Just be present, interacting with the moment, rather than having a running commentary assessing the performance.

I’ve been sort of troubled by an idea repeatedly conveyed to me at work. I’m evidently perceived to have a quiet confidence. They definitely mean that I generally seem to have a quiet confidence, not that I necessarily have confidence now. And I get that the way people see us is how they see us. I don’t take it as an insult. I’m just reflecting on it. Thinking on how what’s happening inside me is different from what others see.

What’s been happening inside of me is turmoil – because of the growing pains at work, lost trial, sincere compliments, and…

My grandmother is dying. I’ve got the pain of not being able to get in a car just yet. Not wanting to get in a car just yet. Not being sure when I should get in a car. The right day – as if there is one for driving across the country to a funeral. And it appears I’ve given up on the idea of being there for the last moments – given up on ever seeing my Nanny alive again. As I’m writing this, I’m only just admitting these thoughts to myself. I wasn’t really aware of all I’ve conceded. I’m just trying not to be a hindrance in arriving too late for the funeral.

How does one decide? I’ve got 5 days of bereavement… does that matter? Should I already be in a car? I’ve got to get an oil change.

Such are the worries… the quiet confidence, right? What a strange way we humans have of seeing things how we see them.

I worry about the logistics of making sure my clients are cared for while I’m gone. The issues of putting Stranger Danger and Heart Meds into a car to drive for three days. The issues of making sure my car is ready for three days of driving.

For the one or two of you who don’t know this about me, I mostly hate driving. I’m a slow driver, and what I mean by that is I’m a glacial driver. I’m the sort of driver who might just stay behind a semi that’s going 10 under the speed limit for hundreds of miles. I rarely go more than 5 over the speed limit. I fear curvy and narrow roads. I fear heavy traffic.

With the pressure of getting to the other side of the country, there is the added pressure of my sister. I’m afraid she’s going to hold some resentment or judgment towards me for not being there long enough, soon enough… that I wasn’t there to see our father as he hallucinated at the end. Nor will I be there for the real last moments of Nanny. To deal with the hospice time things – bodies slowly shutting down. I’m not carrying any of that burden.

Then there’s the grief. I’ve been blessed with a peace about the losses that have occurred thus far in my life. I’ve been able to resolve my relationships with the dead and dying long before that last chance to say the right thing.

I think my relationship with my Nanny is such that we are at peace. I hope we are. I can’t think of anything that was unresolved or broken between us.

I feel a steady sadness at how little time I had with her over the years. We lived in different worlds. Far away. And I’ve always got the excuses for myself that I’m a homebody. Rooted. Working. Unable to do x, y, z… unable to drop everything and just go.

But I also try to tell myself the things I would tell a friend. I am doing my best. Trying to make decisions without any certainty. With limited information.

The reason death is so hard to accept – the reason it feels so strange – is because we were not created for death. God has put eternity into a man’s heart.

When I worked for Casa de la Luz Hospice, one of my favorite ideas is that life’s thresholds (birth and death) hold a unique magic. The lines between earth and eternity are blurred. The coming and going of a person is hallowed. Sacred. Mysterious. Special.

I hope and pray for Nanny, and all of us. I was going to list off the family members and recognize that all of us have our griefs and logistics to sort out. All of us are about to lose deeply and personally. But I think it’s truer to just say that Nanny was the sort of woman who made a difference. She’s been a companion to so many of us. Family. Not family. We all ache at the thought of being without Clara Cassida.

Unleashed

I’m blogging on my laptop! It’s been quite some time since it’s had a working screen, so I’ve been doing things on my phone a lot. However, I have a nice trip to North Carolina planned next month and I thought I’d like to have a larger screen to watch Netflix on as I cross the country. So… I paid money and had someone repair it for me.

I am enthusiastic about this trip for a number of reasons.

Of course, I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with my mom and the rest of my family. I wish I lived closer to them all for so many reasons. I’m also looking forward to the trees. And the green. There is no substitution for the huge, beautiful desert sky, but my affection for the Appalachian Mountains has grown over the years, and I’m looking forward to seeing them.

Also, though, this is my first true vacation since starting my job. It feels like a really big deal to be taking three weeks, but the time seemed like a necessity since I’ll be driving and I happen to be the slowest driver in the whole history of the world.

Taking that much time from work is going to be interesting. I’m going to work on my cases here and there while I’m away, just to make sure it isn’t unmanageable when I get back, but I hope to have a true and refreshing break.

I’ve been reflecting on work a lot lately, and I have to say that I feel truly blessed.

I honestly thought I’d go the route of representing kiddos. And when it came down to deciding where to be, I just felt an inexplicable pull toward criminal law. I’d spent a lot of law school focusing on an area of law called dependencies (when kids get removed from their parents because of abuse or neglect), and that seemed like the route I would or possibly even should go. There were jobs in dependencies when I was looking – none representing kids, but still, I could have worked in dependencies.

But there wasn’t a flame. I wasn’t jazzed about the cases. They mostly made me sad. And also, juries. There aren’t juries in dependencies. Judges decide everything. And judges are cool, but jeez… juries are just really, really cool. I don’t know how to describe it other than to say, the flame is just there for criminal law and jury trials. In the future, that could obviously change, but right now, every part of who I am feels aligned with this job.

There are also the people. I love my coworkers… every single one of them… but I really, really love the floor I’m on, the team I’m on, the mentors I have (both official and unofficial). I love my paralegal. My team leader. I’m still secretly afraid of some of the judges, but I love the courtroom. I love my clients. I feel supported and challenged. I feel… right. And, honestly, I feel unleashed for the first time in years.

We did a training at work a week or so ago, and all of the speakers talked in one way or another about the courtroom belonging to them. And it reminded me so much of softball. When I was playing softball, the pitching mound was this singular point in the world that was mine.

Every now and then, I think back to how much of an asshole I was during softball and how much I missed out, because I was not interested in my teammates. At. All. I wasn’t unkind to them. I supported them on the field as well as I knew how. I gave them credit for their successes (especially my catchers). But I didn’t support my teammates in life or care who they were off the field.

Because I was so single-minded as a teenager, I work really hard to be a decent human being now. That’s probably an odd thing to say, but I really, truly think about it a lot. I know myself and when I don’t work at being decent, I do not give a damn about others. I do not empathize. I do not help. I’m not aggressive or destructive towards others… I am just wired to ignore them and do my own thing.

I constantly work to change that about myself. I’m ashamed to admit that in some ways, it’s exhausting. Because I never get to be my true self. I’m always holding back the parts of myself that seem undesirable and I try to nurture the kindness and caring I wish were innate in me.

So, I’m not sure I’ve articulated it all that well, but it feels really lovely to have a space again where my primary concern should not be “being nice.”

I remember this time when I was a senior in high school, and we were playing the first important game of the season. It was a tournament. We were playing against our rival. I had just made a big change and quit the travel team I was on, and the coach I’d left behind was in the stands. And there were just a lot of people in the stands. It was a big matchup. There were reporters. So…. I worked myself into a frenzy.

I was generally a lunatic on the mound, by the way. When I think back on it, I’m not sure why my parents never once asked me to tone it down. I think, had I been in their shoes, I would have been embarrassed to claim me. I would get all sweaty, and then kick dirt around and repeatedly pick up dirt and rub it all over my hands. Half of the sweat on me would turn into mud. There were times when I legit had mud caked inside my nostrils. And I would sing, because for hours before a game, I’d be getting revved up. I’d listen to one song again and again and again for hours, on repeat. For hours. If I wasn’t singing on the mound, I was talking loudly. To myself. For everyone to hear. More than one umpire asked my catcher what the hell I was doing. I was absolutely off my rocker.

So, I was really fired up for this particular game. A lot of people were watching, and it I felt really important.

I went to throw the first pitch of the game. I think that pitch might be the hardest one I’ve ever thrown. The only problem was, I threw that damn thing straight into the ground. I’m not saying I rolled it to the plate. I’m saying that it barely made it to the plate, because it was 60 ish mph straight down.

And the strange thing was, I didn’t even bat an eyelash. Everyone had seen it. I was supposed to be this magnificent hero in the senior year to beat all senior years, and I’d thrown this horrible pitch right out of the gates for all to see.

But, I just went ahead and struck that batter out and threw a great game.

At work, I’ve said some sort of dumb things. In court. Nothing really shameful just yet. But awkward. Clunky. Off. And there are always people there, seeing it. The way the court calendars work, there are double digit numbers of defendants who have hearings scheduled at the same time. All of their attorneys are in the courtroom, and we see each other having our hearings.

But the courtroom is very like the pitching mound. You just take note of what happened. Of where you went wrong. Learn from it. And throw the next three pitches and the rest of the game.

Also, you practice. I understand practice. Showing up every day and putting in the work… drilling. Throwing that same pitch 50x a day, every day. And throwing all of your other pitches every day. So you’ll be ready. So you can unleash hell on your opponent when the time comes.

It really is nice to again have a space where I can let myself do all of the things I am wired to do. I really do love my job.

But back on-track: I’m going to North Carolina! I’m excited to have a break. Also, I’m looking to refocus a bit.

I don’t know about all of you, but I’m still reeling from 2020. I feel like I whine about it a lot, but everything just happened so incredibly fast. Covid hit. Dad died. I graduated. I started a new job. I studied for the Bar. I took the Bar. I passed the Bar. I ended it with Russ. My nephew killed himself. I started a new job.

And, notwithstanding the state of the world right now, I’m starting to feel stable. It’s come in increments, for sure, but I’m realizing how much I have ignored in order to just survive the past couple of years.

I haven’t been to church since 2019 ish. I’ve been doing things to sort of steward myself, so I don’t think I’ve been stagnant spiritually, but it’s an enormous loss in my life not to be plugged into a church. And I don’t really know how to get back into it. Also, it’s not a matter of just going back to my previous church. I can’t recall what I’ve shared about it, but I really lost the esteem in which I held my church. So I would have to find a new one. And, well, it’s effing hard to find a church. So… I don’t know. I feel the loss and don’t really have a plan for what I want to do about it.

Also, I haven’t been sitting at coffee shops, reading, blogging, and meeting with friends. Hannah and I have got a nice thing going where we’re meeting up every couple of weeks. And doing that with her just made me realize how much I haven’t been sitting in coffee shops for two years. I actually also miss coffee shops being my only source of internet connection. I hate having the internet at home. I know that’s weird, but it’s a great feeling to be disconnected at home and I miss it. I feel I have to keep internet access at home nowadays in case I have to work from home. Also, I’m now using an XBOX One, which doesn’t work without an internet connection. But it’s sad. Coffee shops previously held an oddly significant space in my life, and I’ve lost that.

Additionally, I haven’t been going to yoga classes.

I haven’t been in a comic book club.

I haven’t gone to conventions.

I haven’t had dinners with friends and game nights and movie nights.

For quite a while there, I hadn’t even gone to the grocery store. I was having my groceries delivered.

I haven’t traveled.

I haven’t gone to the theater to see movies.

I haven’t gone to the theater to see plays.

Until December, I hadn’t been running races.

The loss really was substantial. And sudden. And lingering.

And I haven’t adjusted. I haven’t made space in my life for Covid so much as I stopped living, thinking Covid was temporary.

So, I’m thinking on how to do life again.

It’s kind of a Maslow’s Hierarchy thing. I was in survival mode for so long… Now, I can hopefully put some joys back into my life that had to be set aside for a bit. I’m reevaluating. Restructuring. Reprioritizing. Now that the job feels stable (there is always more to learn, but I’m happy and… you know, I’m not expecting to get fired anytime soon) – now that things have generally settled down, I’m looking at establishing new routines and a new normal, that feeds joy into my heart.

I wonder what things everyone else feels they lost from Covid? Mom and I talk a lot, so I know what she says she lost. I also listen to a podcast that focuses on the different ways Covid has impacted people. But it’s just such a substantial loss for me, and really, it’s a big shitpile of many, many losses for all of us.