a place for nothing and everything and everything in between. posted whenever something won't leave me alone until it's written down.
There is a version of me that rinses everything twice and dries as it goes and puts each thing away the moment it's clean. I have met him twice. He was insufferable both times, and also, notably, not real — he was me, on two mornings, before either of us had anywhere to be.
keep reading →some nights the fridge hums louder than the thoughts do, and that feels like an accomplishment.
They were in my hand. I want to be very clear about this: the entire time, they were in my hand, and I still looked in the fridge. Not the fruit bowl, which would at least make sense as a place keys sometimes end up. The fridge.
keep reading →The offside rule. My own tax bracket. Why the good mug always ends up dirty first. What a bond yield actually is, as opposed to what I nod along to when someone explains it. Whether I like jazz or just like being seen near it.
keep reading →One is a recipe I will not cook. One is a flight I will not book. One is just the word "cordwood" that I looked up eleven days ago and now feel personally responsible for.
keep reading →Every notes app I own is a graveyard of first lines. This one's different only in that I'm making it public before I can talk myself out of it again.
keep reading →