The laundry list of this day extends out the door. The Monday anxiety is already screeching its high-pitched aria, the myriad things that could go wrong a metallic tang on my tongue. My bruja energies–invariably Carrie-style when I’m on high alert–have broken two glasses, popped one lightbulb, shorted out a pair of headphones. But I’ll take each step, one in front of the other, in the cutest shoes I can muster until I’ve done everything I can today. (G-d knows the universe has sent plenty of good wind on my back.) Given the options–busy living, busy dying–I’m, like, super in favor of the former.
The laundry list of this day extends out the door. The Monday anxiety is already screeching its high-pitched aria, the myriad things that could go wrong a metallic tang on my tongue. My bruja energies–invariably Carrie-style when I’m on high alert–have broken two glasses, popped one lightbulb, shorted out a pair of headphones. But I’ll take each step, one in front of the other, in the cutest shoes I can muster until I’ve done everything I can today. (G-d knows the universe has sent plenty of good wind on my back.) Given the options–busy living, busy dying–I’m, like, super in favor of the former. 