14/365

people and things in which I have the highest of hopes:

weighted blankets

barry jenkins' new film

the one legit coffee shop in our neighborhood
the third season of atlanta
time-release melatonin

the new pack film

alexandria ocasio-cortez

every bra I've ever purchased

13/365

places from which I have banned myself:

webMD
any site even remotely similar to webMD
the medical aisle at any and every book store and/or library

12/365

things I keep in jars:

cloves
pennies
water from the pacific ocean
water from the atlantic ocean
portland rain, collected the day we moved
secret candies
bits of magical thinking

11/365

things I did on the first day of 48:

slept in
drank all the coffee
felt alive
I mean, really alive
ate breakfast in bed with confetti
did not read the news
did not watch the news
wore a little crown made of sunflowers 
put on my reading glasses to read ezra's card 
tried not to cry
cried anyway
baked the red velvet cake
let the kids help
had soft pretzels and cherry limeade for lunch
stood in a room full of mirrors and lights
stood in that room for thirty seconds
wanted to stand in it for thirty hours
bought myself a little paint set
felt hopeful
tried on coral lipstick
felt hopeful
took a freight elevator to the rooftop
looked out over the city
closed my eyes
made a wish

10/365

things I did on the last day of 47:

overslept
went to a thousand grocery stores
actually, two
bought cake flour, red food coloring, buttermilk 
wondered how many years I have been baking this cake
looked at my eyes in the mirror
googled eye cream
looked at my neck in the mirror
googled neck cream
did a thousand loads of laundry
literally a thousand
actually, seven
actually think seven might as well be a thousand
wondered how my laundromat is still in business
counted the number of machines marked out of order
counted eight
stepped over a washing machine turned on its side, guts and wires spilled out
wondered if they've just given up
listened to a couple argue in russian
listened to the sound of my friend's voice
wondered what I would have done without her this year
cut onions and garlic nice and fine
taught ezra how to saute 
contemplated vacuuming
decided against it
looked at the haircut I gave myself
I mean really looked at it
apologized to my hair
put fresh sheets on the bed
felt victorious
surveyed the mountain of towels and clothes yet to be folded
felt defeated
took a hot shower with the lights off
thanked my body for another year
thanked my skin, my muscles and bones
apologized for the many ways in which I have mistreated them
promised to do better this year 
meant it
chose the polaroid of the lovely laundromat above
chose it knowing full well it looks nothing like my sad laundromat
posted it anyway
wondered what tomorrow's list will look like
wondered what 48 what will look like

9/365

seen at the mall today:

$200 face cream
a canary yellow fur coat
the world's smallest magic 8 ball
all the dresses I wore in the nineties
santa claus

8/365

small pleasures, part one:

french fries
old photographs
the first page of a new book
sweaters that feel like blankets
sap pinched from the ends of christmas tree branches
handwritten letters
naps

7/365

I would not be mad if, in a strange turn of events, santa claus turned out to be a real, living guy who, in an even stranger turn of events, hand-delivered one of the following items to my home in the dead of night:

these roller skates
this record album
this bicycle
this book
this camera

note: this is really just an updated version of a christmas wish list my fourth grade self made, though that one probably also included a request for multiple tins of village lip lickers and a dramatic plea for a mister microphone

6/365

things I worried about today:

financial aid for ava
an impending deadline 
the strange sound the kitchen faucet makes
the strange sound my computer cord makes
ways I've failed as a parent
ways in which I am unable to properly adult
cancer, all of the cancers, always

5/365

things I didn't see coming:

donald trump
the return of mom jeans
the love I have for my reading glasses

(well okay I sort of saw donald trump coming)

4/365

things I wish I had at my house:

a washer
a dryer
a washer with a dryer stacked on top
a dryer with a washer stacked on top
literally anything vaguely resembling a washer
also, I would like a dryer

3/365

things that got me through monday:

sunlight for breakfast

clementines for lunch

this song on the radio 

this library book on deck 

the little forest that lives on the mantle 

the piece of cheesecake I remembered I'd hid in the back of the refrigerator

the comedy that is the haircut I gave myself a few days ago

the christmas tree we brought home tonight

the way the house smells right now, right this second

2/365

things found in the garage today:

a handful of seashells
an inordinate amount of empty boxes
the missing christmas records
a pair of tiny pink sneakers that once belonged to ava
a letter I wrote to myself back in february

1/365

on this first day of december:

banana bread, baked
christmas decorations, considered
furniture, moved
hairs, cut
dishes, washed
rain, appreciated
couch, sunk into

hello december

ready for you, december. ready for all of your things.