- I don’t know if I’m fighting a cold, the chilly weather, or a sense of ennui, but the alarm goes off and I don’t get up for another forty-five minutes. Maybe all three
- I cry into the pages. I cry on his chest. I cry in the public bathroom. All from different triggers that are actually all the same.
- It’s a great sweater.
- More water.
- I ruthlessly self-edit, cutting “weak” language to emphasize my professionalism while simultaneously worrying about being read as bitchy. The real female trouble.
- Learning to trust means sometimes you have to clean up pee twice in one day.
- Body, soul, and spirit are meant to be connected.
- You can’t lose it. You have to give it away.
- It’s the chips that did it; I could’ve gotten away with the pizza. Every joint in my hands aches, and I’ll wake up with a bread-and-salt hangover.
- Dear Lord, let me make that 5am club meeting.
Of so much crying, fighting the female voice, and not being able to eat like I did when I was 20.