This morning I woke up to a leak in my bathroom. There was a shower leak coming from upstairs, which is nobody’s fault. Except Isaac Newton because he invented gravity. So I stood in the hallway looking at the water drip drop dripping right over my toilet. There’s been a lot of bathroom drama this week. My super came and fixed it and it was fine but there’s something about not being able to pee in the morning because the ceiling is crying that will start anybody’s day off on the wrong foot.
I feel very alone today. Not lonely but alone. Alone as in, chewing my food really slowly just in case. I feel like I want a hug. There’s no way this is going on the Internet right?
Every time I cry on a Tuesday night I feel like there must be a reason. It’s not Sunday, which is a normal time to cry. The impending start of the work week, remembering that you forgot to go to church again, and thinking about how on a day of rest, you can’t really rest because the time spent resting is taken over by thoughts about what you have to do once you’re done resting. Then I usually look up what the moon is up to. If it’s a full moon, then problem solved. If it’s any other phase of moon, back to the drawing board. Next question, am I on my period? Then it’s normal to cry. If not, there are actually more reasons. Everyone who menstruates is either menstruating, which feels bad, pre-menstruating, which feels crazy, ovulating, which feels crazy, or you’re in your follicular phase. All I know about the follicular phase is that someone on TikTok told me I should be eating broccoli during it. And going to Pilates. There’s always next month.
If none of the above answer my question, then I’m forced to sit with my sadness and understand what it’s about. This is not very rock and roll of me and I’d rather not do it on a Tuesday night. This is supposed to be a night for tequila and tacos and half off natural wine probably at a bar in the fictional town of East Williamsburg.
I am blasting Miley Cyrus’ new song because if I sit here in silence I will hear the rattling of my light fixture that needs to be fixed but I can’t bother my super again after the light thing and the flood thing.
This is an experiment in stream of consciousness. This should have gone in a journal but I feel alone right now and I don’t want to write notes to myself. Whoever ends up reading this tonight, hello, I hope your Tuesday is mundane in the normal way. Or perhaps even exciting. I hope you went on a first date tonight and they asked you a lot of questions. This newsletter isn’t always relatable, sometimes it’s just for me. Like the burrito I just ordered. None of you can taste it, but I can, and that’s enough for tonight.