New Year. New Decade

The last six months of 2022 were interminably difficult for me.

In addition to being hard to admit, it’s a strange thing to say out loud because even when it's jarringly complicated and painful, life isn't typically difficult for me.

You know what I’m great at?

Planning cool shit to do when traveling, making truly excellent mixtapes and LIFE - specifically the resiliency/handling my shit via compartmentalization part of it.

Freedom’s is just another word for nothin' left to lose and resiliency is just another word for white knuckling it and managing to hang on when the universe is trying to kill you.

And I crush that.

For example, the worst time of my life was February 2013.

I was splitting up with my ex-husband and sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the apartment we used to share. Alone, cold and sad. And pre-divorce skinny which, not gonna lie, was super hot but super unhealthy and not really recommended.

I’m 30, weighed about 98lbs and that jersey is made for a 12-14 year old boy.

And I got through it.

Oh, it sucked and I cried a lot but I held on and I handled my shit. Solely because I didn’t have any other choice.

The last six months, though? This is a different kind of beastie. A different kind of difficult.

Typically, my cup runneth over...usually with expensive gin and there is plenty to share but lately, I’ve been running on E.

To quote Bilbo Baggins:

And that bread is burnt as fuck.

I attribute this to a few things but two big factors include a lack of sleep and the lack of a creative outlet.

There was about a two month stretch in which I only slept like 3-4 hours a night - something I haven’t done since Will was an infant.

This was mostly due to Will’s irregular sleep patterns, the dogs needing to go out to pee/stalk something in the bushes and being an incredibly light sleeper who wakes up at the slightest noise and has a hard time falling asleep again.

This lack of sleep is hard on anyone but on someone with immune system issues like mine? It’s just brutal.

I was fatigued, constantly in low-grade pain and mentally? I felt like I was swimming through refrigerated honey just to complete the simplest tasks. I felt like my brain was eternally buffering.

But I’m a mom to the world’s most incredible kid and life doesn’t stop, so I did what needed to be done.

I did it while operating in Safe Mode, but I did it nonetheless.

It’s not really sustainable in terms of good physical or mental health practices, though.

Which brings me to my second point. When you run in Safe Mode, your sense of creativity gets dulled and as a parent, I feel like I don’t have much of a creative outlet anymore.

I feel like my brain has simultaneously expanded and atrophied.

I am consumed with all the things I have to do and I feel like I’m constantly running a background app listing all of these things, ticker-tape style - you need to buy milk, apples and diapers, you need to get tickets to the science museum, you need to sign Will up for soccer….

And then, I consume entirely too much terrible children's programming.

Look, if you don’t believe in screen time and your kid loves playing with color-neutral blocks, that’s amazing and good for you but like, a good 50% of all my knowledge comes from TV and movies, so I’m not sweating letting my kid watch TV.

However, for every amazing Nat Geo clip Will watches about sharks, there’s a clip featuring a bunch of spandex-clad weirdos singing about yummy apples and that shit will melt your brain quicker than candlewax.

I read when I can, but it's more catching a couple of pages as opposed to curling up with a book.

I don't really watch television or movies often anymore because I can’t get through them uninterrupted (I watched half of Heat last week and I am aching to get back to it).

I don't even listen to the music I love as much anymore because my radio is governed by the dictatorial whims of a kid demanding to hear The Lion Sleeps Tonight by The Tokens ad infinitum.

For someone who could wax poetic about pop culture forever, this is a strange turn of events.

Then, there’s The Big Thing lurking just around the corner.

In less than three months, I am going to be 40 and lately, I’ve been feeling every year of that 40.

I have these shimmery little hairs that keep popping up, I can’t drink caffeine past 2:00pm in the afternoon and yesterday, I started looking up the cost of Botox…which ugh and no.

Ugh because I hate the fact that women feel like this is even a thing we have to do to feel good about ourselves and no because it’s an injection. Of Botulism. In. My. Face.

But I also feel like I’m 22.

Because I have no clue what I'm doing and still believe that a margarita, chips and salsa are a valid choice for dinner.

And I also feel like I’m about 186 years old because when you have RA, your body basically hates you.

So, how do we fix this? How do we ensure that the next six months aren’t as grueling as the past six have been?

Well, sleep - for one. Melatonin, meditation, lighting clary sage, downloading one of the sleep apps where Matthew McConaughey tells boring stories. Whatever it takes. I need more sleep. I need better sleep.

I think I need to go to therapy. Actually, I work with a bunch of therapists and think everyone needs to go to therapy, so I know I need to go to therapy.

I know I need to write more and write more consistently. Blogging more often and working on a goal of writing at least 500 words a day on one of the two books I’m writing.

I think I need to cook more. I made a spicy macaroni and cheese inspired by a meal I had at Nine Mile in Asheville and it was great. I loved conceptualizing it, I loved cooking it and I really loved serving it to the people I love.

So yeah - cook more. Create more in the kitchen and feed people.

I think I want to start a podcast about music. A podcast about the music that matters, a Justified rewatch podcast and maybe a podcast about silly little love songs never actually work in reality (uh, I actually do need a ring to be your wife, Method Man and who is going to look after these thousands of kids you’re planning on having? Easy, champ. We’re not Nick Cannoning).

I think I need to get back into yoga.

I know I need to hang out with people more often.

I think I want to get better at making Instagram reels and make cooking videos set to sexy 90s R&B because sizzling melting butter and D’Angelo just make sense in my head.

I know I need to see more live music because nothing makes me feel more alive.

I know I want to travel more - Greece, the Pacific Northwest, Los Angeles, Scotland, Sweden…hell, Idaho, Wisconsin, Dunedin, fucking Hialeah….

So, here’s to a new year and a new decade.

Here’s to 40 - ripe with promise and possibility and not giving a fuck about gray hair and the fact that I have a wrinkle in between my eyebrows born of my “What the actual fuck?” expression.

Here’s to doing more for myself so I can do more for others.

Here’s to it being better. For me, for you, for all of us.