My usual Starbucks order of a flat white coupled with some writing during my unemployment and heartbroken phase—has changed. I've decided to boycott and now drink the free coffee at work. Some days it’s a cappuccino; other times, I make a fancy little cinnamon vanilla latte using the coffee machine. Sadly, the writing has stopped.
It was never intentional. Maybe I just needed some time to pour into my 9-5. Something that made me feel like a human contributing to society, whatever that means. I was too scared to write about my life because things kept changing, and writing about it felt… exhausting. Exposing?
What’s new with you? Well. Everything and nothing at all.
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I finished a few chapters of a book I saw on the internet, well on social. You know what I mean. At the book store, aka Barnes & Noble, I walked around searching for another sad literary fiction about an emotionally turbulent, sexually frustrated, and psychologically troubled woman. However, I didn't find any books that caught my interest as I picked them up from the tables, scanned the back covers, and then set them down again.
Something about the three young friends who flounced into the store caught my attention immediately. Lately, I’ve realized that my eyes are observing every crowd, passerby, and TikTok account for people I aspire to be like. Millennial, gen-z queer comedic people with edgy haircuts, secondhand coats with fur lining, and a pack of cigarettes in their coat pocket. It feels like a sign that I could perhaps belong in this world, or maybe just a dream of wanting to be more like them.
My eyes immediately followed a trio who were on a mission: they were searching for the new Sally Rooney book. They headed upstairs and I thought to myself, "Okay, I’ll get it too." However, they left the store with a different book, and I wondered if it wasn’t so cool after all. To be so mainstream. Did I want to read this book about two brothers — one who plays chase and the other who is an insufferable older brother?
In truth, I never finished the show Normal People, and I never read the book either. I hardly read at all, and when I do it feels like a significant achievement, almost like writing my name for the first time.
I don't want to be too hard on myself – at least that’s what I’m working on with my therapist.
It turns out the book Intermezzo is more stimulating than I expected. The second chapter makes me kick my feet and smile to myself. There’s something so warm and fuzzy about reading a smutty book or watching a TV show and giggling to oneself about a fictional character not to mention the edits I see on TikTok.
What’s even more interesting is recognizing there’s a younger version of me who did the same things a decade ago. My love for vampire books, young adult fiction, and dreamy crushes on attractive characters in TV shows was all-consuming.
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My therapist, Shannon, asked me if there was anything I could do to help process my overwhelming thoughts and feelings outside of our bi-weekly meetings. Internally, I cringed at the thought. Did she mean I needed to find a way to process things outside of therapy? I'm already at my capacity, Shannon. But she was right. I have been avoiding writing, journaling, and even discussing my feelings.
That's why I haven't written since March. I know I've had other significant changes in my life, like starting a new job, getting back into a relationship, moving, and dealing with my mom's cancer diagnosis. There has certainly been plenty to write about…