Of rising numbers, reaction fallout, and talking about Christmas already.

  1. I lie in bed for long minutes after the alarm, letting my mind wander, stretching stiff muscles under the covers, debating coffee, wondering how the change of plans will work out.
  2. Inverse caffeine to cream ratios.
  3. The scale leapt rather than crept. Two weeks off, many treats, and T-9 days will do that.
  4. Bacon is not an amazing perfume.
  5. We are not responsible for other people’s reactions. We are, however, responsible to live with the fallout.
  6. Even in sitting on the toilet, I’m working.
  7. She barely responds. I can picture the nervous smile on her face, the one that means she’s screaming inside. She lies to me; I pour it out anyway—all the love and encouragement I think she can stand—and offer confidentiality. Neither of us really knows how to have a sister. But if there ever was a time, this is it.
  8. He’s the kind of person who drops important details about their life into casual conversation without context, yet isn’t fishing.
  9. Thankful for the who, the where, the how.
  10. Three more holidays ’til Christmas.


Of the small thing that’s the big thing, defense as connection, and the letter K.

  1. If I hold out a little longer, it’ll lay down. Then maybe I won’t be so disappointed in my reflection.
  2. Let go of what you thought it was to take hold of what it is.
  3. Synecdoche.
  4. Is it her attitude that’s the problem or is it mine?
  5. The behindness has reached a point where I doubt both my ability to catch up and my fitness to do anything creative on the regular at all. It stirs up both defeat and defiance.
  6. The instinct to defend myself is still strong, whether I’m right or wrong. But it’s not about blame; it’s about understanding.
  7. That he agrees means it must be the right choice this time.
  8. Just because someone has it worse than you doesn’t mean you don’t have problems.
  9. The uncertain breeze on the edge of chilly. The scent of leaves fallen but not yet moldering. The last hopeful ice cream truck.
  10. So many beautiful words.


Of a certain kind of adventurer, my plan for old age, and a quiet Southern dinner.

  1. Upsetting dreams wake me just before the alarm. The more entwined we become, the more his disturbance disturbs me.
  2. Is there a word for an adventurer who goes into the unknown simply to learn whatever they can, as much as they can, then return to share the wonder and knowledge with their people?
  3. The key to the gift is in the delivery.
  4. Dear Caffeine: I miss you.
  5. “You mean I read you a story when you go to sleep and I tuck you in and give you a baby and turn off the light and go downstairs?” “Yeah, baby, one day. One day when you’re big and I’m old, maybe you’ll take care of me like I take care of you now.” She thinks about this for a long time but says nothing. I do, too.
  6. Why is it so hard to articulate the exhaustion from energy spent on unresolved things?
  7. Good Lord, it’s a gorgeous day.
  8. Can’t say I’m surprised, although I am a bit disappointed.
  9. Grilled sausage, apple coleslaw, baked beans, roasted potatoes, cornbread, and pecan pie.
  10. Even more behind but unashamed.


Of making it to the gym for once, being a wet blanket, and tinyart.

  1. Up before the alarm, I squash the impulse to trawl social media for fifteen minutes before rolling out of bed. I need to move.
  2. The desire to spend the still, dark morning in journalling devotion wars with the desire to lift and run. There’s only room for one each day—though there was a time I did both.
  3. My jaw hasn’t felt wired shut in days, which means the decaf is working. Yay!dammit.
  4. It’s too much—too many bodies, too many voices—but even as I nervously fan myself, I’m aware that the anxiety is exponentially (thankfully) less than last year.
  5. Go the f*ck to sleep.
  6. A lot of the time being a 1 feels like you’re the wet blanket of the ennegram.
  7. Deleting drafts that seemed promising but lack substance.
  8. Creating tinyart each day—savoring the thrill of the idea landing just so, of stretching into unfamiliar territory—reinforces old certainty. I can do this. There are stories in here yet.
  9. The hardest part of knowing ahead of time is being patient while reality catches up.
  10. I should’ve given her a bath tonight. Tomorrow, it’s the Return of Big Boots, and Big Boots only bathes the hard way.