Note to world #1024

She was entering a dangerous phase of the year : when the distinction between what she wore during the weekend days and what she wore to bed was blurring considerably. So much so that going to bed in her clothes seemed like a comfortable proposition….

Note to world #1102

I tried to write up a list of things that make me happy.

It took me a good 10 minutes to scribble down “coffee”.

After another 15 minutes of wondering if I had become my mother, who never seemed all that happy either, I abandoned the effort and decided to take the dog for a walk instead.

in circles

If i were to write the story of myself,
i’m not sure where i would begin or
how i would weave it all together.
i’m not even sure it would be factual –
even though i believe it to be true.
and i’m fairly certain it’s a story that
doesn’t really go anywhere – or at least
doesn’t venture far – and spins and sputters
in circles like a fly with one wing plucked.
maybe that’s what happens to us –
we fail to recover from some dimly remembered
feeling of damage. and then we wrap all of
our other experiences around that core memory
until it’s all we understand about the world.

Note to world #1102

The last suggestion in the article below is the only real suggestion. And I didn’t wait for open space – or millennials – to come along to figure that out. I have been hiding in workplace bathrooms my entire career – and crying has only been one of the many reasons for an office bathroom retreat !

But yes, when I cry at work, I am the master of the silent {but grossly snotty heaving} sob.

Link to the article here:

Note to world #1136

My coworker has a stroke in the company’s onsite gym. He is healthy and slightly older than I am. Our children are the same age. He’s in intensive care and can’t speak.

And I spend the rest of the day feeling itchy about what’s left of my own life.


i’ve been pondering it more and more. my former sister-in-law, who lives a block or two from the Pittsburgh Tree of Life synagogue, had said that love must win.  and i agreed – but what did it mean – and how does love manifest itself in the actions of a reasonably flawed woman living mostly alone among the privileged ?  what could i find to show love in a way that fit my deeply ingrained stand-offish cynicism ?  the two barely seem capable of coexistence.

and then, there it was : a purple keychain without any obvious owner on a train that was almost empty. i called out, just in case anyone might turn back for them.  and then i took time to turn the keychain in at the ‘lost and found’ booth (conveniently located in the hellish bowels of the station by the way) – even though i was running late for my meeting.

today, i wondered whether love came in the sign of something important to a total stranger, lost – and i did my part to try to give it back.  it made me think that love is about paying attention to the lost things, the unnoticed and forgotten.  about remembering to be open to it and to be accepting of what it can entail :

but honestly, if it mostly meant tardiness as the likely consequence – this is not going to be a huge stretch for me.


Note to world #6633

Today was one of those days.

There were train delays this morning. Three hours worth of them. I almost went back home at one point.

But I told myself there would be a donut on the other end of the trip if I just kept going.

Then there were the sort of office politics that depress me. The ones where highly paid people act like children and I get caught in the middle.

And somehow everything got turned upside down and I was on the other side of a scolding.

I came home and had oatmeal, rubbed the dog’s belly and listened to the rain falling outside.

Lights out. Time for a new day, please.