New Year


I'm in the basement of Maria's parents house slouching awfully on a chaise lounge. The wine refrigerator is whirring, and I should be getting to bed since I have to interview a celebrated set decorator in Spanish tomorrow morning. But, you know—who gives a shit.

I had a job interview for a position I don't really want this morning and felt inadequate just from the tone I was met by. Then I sat down and had a wonderful new sandwich—a Panini, really—from Panera that had caramelized kale in it. And I realized that depression is sometimes simply hunger.

I have been told that I have been angry, unhappy lately. Maybe it's as simple as sugar. Too much or too little sugar as acid in the veins. Whiny. Externalizing my reasons for not doing the things which bring me joy and spark movement.

Which is why I took a minute just now to say, Hi.