A collection of midnight monologues and coffee-fueled ramblings; catch my Wandering Words in your inbox by signing up for my newsletter.
“The most valuable thing we can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of room, not try to be or do anything whatever.”
― May Sarton
Hi, it’s been awhile. There’s no point in lying to you; you know me too well. I’ve been drowning in words.
We need more grace in the writing world. People are not book factories. Creating a virtual shouting match about who has it the worst but is still doing better than you helps literally no one. In fact, it hurts.
In 2016, my four-year-old daughter painted my nails red and blue, and I cast my ballot for the first woman president of the United States. I was certain my neighbors recognized what I already had: Donald Trump was dangerous, deranged, and would hurt us all.
But I was wrong.
Every year on my birthday, I buy myself two Boston Creme donuts and devour them with a gluttonous indulgence. First, I lick off the chocolate icing. Yes, it gets all over my face. Then, I nibble the naked donut around the edges until there’s only a thin layer of pastry between me and the cream. Finally, I inhale the donut in no more than three bites, audibly moaning when I finally taste the gooey inside.
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