Saturday

All writers will tell you that it is impossible to write without reading, without being immersed in the language, wrapped up with imagery and submerged in syntax. I stumbled onto this truth out of desperation, always having been too stubborn to take advice from others. And I am so glad to have arrived here, in the reading world again.

Saturday

Last night, near eleven, my eldest decided to have a meltdown because his phone was being confiscated. We took the phone because he had violated curfew and neglected to do anything we asked before he left the house. So it was a fair and predictable consequence. He’s sixteen, though, and of a generation that has mentally merged with their technology. Losing his phone is equivalent in his mind to torture. He proceeded to have a full-on panic attack-esque fit which caused a raucous in our tiny apartment late at night. One of the things that came out of that emotional…

Wednesday

Silence is a learned behavior, explicitly taught. A lot of classroom time is spent striving towards complete silence. Do not speak, do not tap your feet, do not close your pencil case too loudly. I understand, we are living in close quarters here and respecting each other’s space means cultivating silence. At the same time, sometimes I want to disturb that peace. I want to whistle in the hallway or tap dance in the classroom or fart really loudly in the teacher’s room. Nothing too horrible, just enough to startle people out of this odd belief that we can control…

Tuesday

This life, this set-up, it’s all a slapdash construction-in-progress initiated by someone who refuses to acknowledge the sharks circling her little vessel, adrift in the sea. I have made a houseboat out of a busted-up canoe and have strung up tiny fairy lights along the roof, though we can’t turn them on because the motor isn’t working by which I mean to say there was never a motor in the first place. Don’t tell the kids that it has been me back at the stern, hand-paddling us along, making engine noises with my lips. I don’t want them to panic….

Monday

I worked seven days this past week, most of them exceeding eleven hours. We had a school event, the annual music concert, and so it was exceptional. And today, oh today, is a day off. Weekdays off are my absolute favorite. Because I have always been a full-time worker, the weekdays are a blur of pushing the kids out the door, getting myself out the door, bicycling hard in heels to work, teaching and doing misc. school duties, then bicycling home to get the evening chores taken care of, the kids tucked in and read to, and going for a…

Friday

A while back, a friend introduced me to this app called The Pattern. It is a strange little app that takes your birth info (time, place, etc.) and turns it into horoscopes that sound like something your therapist would tell you. There is quite a bit of mystery around the app as no one seems to know who is running the show or what happens with that information you provide or how it is free and yet there are no tacky ad interruptions. Let’s just assume that it is either run by the Russians or profit-driven aliens so we can…

Tuesday

I turn forty in a few weeks. I am okay with it, truly. Glad of it, in fact. Turning forty means I somehow survived my thirties. I am working on something, a retrospective of the past decade. I am thinking of giving each year its own space, bound in its own specific sentences. It will not be an easy task. It has been a long decade, a hard one wrought with loss and woven with joy. I learned a lot. More than I thought I needed to know. I gave birth to two babies in this decade. Moved more times…

Saturday

It has been a strange week, a week of shifts and stops. I’ve been doing nothing in the evenings. Not reading or finishing the painting or the story. Not even helping the kids with their homework. I have just been coming in, closing the curtains, and going to sleep. Is that shameful? I am not sure. Perhaps. I set my alarm for four and sleep through it. I wake at five and lay there staring at the ceiling. I am trying to figure something out but I am not sure what it is. I start Japanese lessons next week. It…

Tuesday

A while back, I asked a friend of mine if I was unrelatable, if I had narrowed my circumstances beyond what can be empathized with. Along with this message, I sent a picture of the full moon over a pagoda. I sent it not to compound my inquiry but because it was what I was looking at as I was chatting with him. I did not receive a reply and perhaps that is my answer. I find myself withdrawing further and further from the maddening crowd and I do not feel that my socially-minded comrades appreciate it. I do follow…