I’ve been going through a thing lately, and I’m trying to not use words I typically rely on (also known as words on which I typically rely), so I will NOT describe it as a funk. Here: I’m napping in a tub filled with cold and slimy doldrums, and it’s a deep tub and I’m avoiding things I typically love and this needs to stop.
Please join me on a doldrum-beating adventure. It begins now. (You’re already here. You may as well stay.)
Here we have sourdough toast with goat cheese, cucumber slices, and honey. I ate it a few weeks back at Upshot, and it fit my mood perfectly. Toast that fits your mood. Not many people can say they’ve had perfect mood-matching toast.
Six months ago, my migraine doctor told me to lose ten pounds, get back to yoga, and start practicing mindfulness. I have done none of those things. NONE OF THEM. A few months ago, I decided to reward myself with overalls when the ten pounds were gone, and then a few weeks ago I found a pair I loved: So I ordered them anyway! They’re slightly too small, so that whole ten pounds thing is definitely still a thing. BUT I love these overalls as much as anyone can love a pair of jeans from Gap with a flap and straps. (And poetry.)
I went to an outdoor market with a friend yesterday, and we came across a number (that number might be five or six) of perfect spots for gathering with enjoyable people. I have so many imaginary plans for this very spot, and one of them includes a kerosene lamp and bread pudding:
Update: I’m still marching to the beat of my own doldrums. (Such clever wordplay!) I’ll keep working on it. Thai food for lunch and gnome knit-alongs and Fiona Apple on my Chill Mix… Gah.