Things You Are Noticing About Yourself
1. You are writing a piece for your friend’s funeral next week. You are grumpy and sad at the same time. Is there a word for that, like “hangry”? What is a grumpy and sad word?
2. You are a coward at some things. There has been a Cologuard box for you to poop in and send away sitting in your bathroom for six weeks. It’s better than a colonoscopy—what the hell is wrong with you?
3. You are thinking of buying a lockbox off Amazon for you and your family to stick your phones in from 6–9 PM every night because it just keeps getting worse.
4. You are taking good care of some things, like your skin. You have a pretty regimented routine that you’ve roped Keith into as well.
5. You miss your mother so much, and every day you are assaulted by how much your hands look like hers.
6. You are writing a book that is just forever in limbo—starting and stopping. You are so jealous of artists who can just be artists, but then you slap yourself and practice gratitude like a prayer.
7. You collect athletic and gym clothing in a drawer. They are nice, comfy, and expensive. You have not gone to the gym for six months. You pat yourself on the back.
8. January seems scary.
9. You are loved in an exquisite way.
10. You read a lot of books recently.
11. Christmas was different this year. It was the first time Joe was not with us. You processed it already, but it was noted in your journal. It took up a couple of pages. Divorce leaves an indelible mark on a soul, you think.