late February. what a month. (this was supposed to hit your inboxes yesterday!)

who needs five things? i've got ten.

Hello, friends—

Two weeks ago I wrote in my journal: Everywhere, people are hurting. Ukraine is currently being blamed for being invaded, women and transgender persons risk losing the right to vote, and food and medicine is stagnating in ports across the country. Why are we in the business of causing more suffering, not less?

And lo and behold, this week we’ve got more of the same, and more bad news.

I did more than 5 things this week, thank you very much. I did 10.

1. I’ve committed to stop (or at least limit) doomscrolling, while also being sure to leave time in each day to make my calls and send my notes. I’m grateful to

   Jessica Craven
   for regularly sending quick, clear, and accessible action items. I’m happy about the way
   Scott Dworkin
   titles all his emails: Great news for us, bad news for …. These voices and others (scroll through to find a list of folks to follow and amplify) remind me that I am not alone in my dismay. Not alone in my anger. Not alone in my sense of civic urgency.

2. Tried to convince everyone I know to ditch Amazon and Whole Foods and—it should go without saying at this point—Tesla. I had ditched Amazon years ago (right around the time I started my own little bookshop page), and I finally gave Whole Foods up for good last fall. With the exception of Whole Foods, I’ve never been a big-box shopper. They’re too loud, too big, too chaotic. Plus, the lighting sucks.

3. I was diagnosed with Influenza A (I had gotten my shot!) plus a secondary bacterial infection. I have been miserable. Scared and sad and miserable. Over the last several years, as a result of LOTS of therapy, I have finally begun to understand myself as someone who does (perhaps disproportionately?) feel the pain and burdens of others. Sometimes, when I’m in a room with someone who is struggling, I can see their concerns as though in black Sharpie bubble letters above their head. I don’t mean this as a humble-brag! To the contrary, I know that what I need to work on is letting other people live their own lives and feel their own feelings. They don’t need me feeling worse on their behalf! Furthermore, I’m sure my “empathic” inclinations are at least partially manifestations of my maladjusted people-pleasing tendencies, and / or my desperate need to fit in. All this is to say: even on my best days, I find it hard to be an optimist in the face of so much individual and collective grief. And being sick makes finding that optimism all the harder! Everything feels awful. Everything feels pointless. You know what else is harder when I’m sick? Being vulnerable. I know A. wants to help, but I’m stuck between the two virus-addled poles of “Please come take my suffering away” and “Leave me alone, I’ve got this.” I want to be direct about my needs, but I worry that need will turn to neediness, that dreaded, misogynistic insult. Who else believes there’s a “sick tribunal” waiting out there for us!?! This is the nameless, faceless tribunal that will jump out of the shadows to say “Ah-hah! Gotcha!” if I dare to ask for or receive more than just just exactly the proper amount of sympathy and attention I deserve for my current condition. (I’m sick, but not actually dying. I’m tired, but I did get *some sleep last night, etc., etc.)

   

   yes, all of this in one day. some of it multiple times each day. and my functional medicine doctors are notoriously low-intervention, as a general rule! 😭

4. Got rejected for one of the two fellowships I applied for this summer. In the form rejection email, the editor had this to say about their selection process:

   I applied for a fellowship myself this year, and I did not get it. I went through the whole cycle of emotions: laziness ("ugh, so much work"), glimmers of hope ("my ideas are good, though"), fatalism ("I won't get it"), and wild optimism ("I've got this!!")... followed by the disappointment of rejection ("why did I even bother?"). So I want to speak to those of you who are feeling rejected and disappointed right now, which I imagine is many of you. Maybe I'm speaking to myself.
   
   Believe me, I am screaming at the unfairness of having to send you this email. Every single one of you has an engaging voice, fascinating ideas, and a valuable perspective. I hate that we don't live in a multiverse where I can just accept each of the 600 applicants in a different timeline. (Every Writer Everywhere All at Once?)

   So at least I felt seen, even if I didn’t get one of the two (!) spots.

5. Watched a video which I will not link to of a woman in Idaho being thrown to the ground by three—THREE!—white dudes who used zip ties to immobilize her. All this while a slew of other white woman stood around and watched. What. The. Hell.

6. From my journal two weeks ago: This morning at 6:30, the “feels like” temperature was 1 degree F. Even the dogs didn’t want to get up. I heard the garbage trucks making their rounds, which reminded me that I had forgotten to put the bins out last night. When will I ever be able to call myself a responsible grown-up? (Note from today: there’s that virus-fueled self-flagellation creeping in, even a couple of weeks ago!) For the last few years, I have been intentionally trying to practice being in “right relationship” with winter. By that I mean, I try not to expect winter to be something it isn’t. I try not to blame winter for my own lack of maturity, or preparedness. I try to embrace winter in all of its winterness as opposed to wanting to change it, or wish it away. But this year, it must be said, our relationship took quite the hit!

7. From my journal this week: is it possible my heart actually broke from all the strain of these last several years? is that why my heart rate variability is so poor, even though I am in excellent health? will my heart ever heal? what if something happens this year to injure it further? am I so sick today because this is just what it means to get the flu as an almost-55-year-old? will I get this sick again in my life? how many more times? will I get even sicker? how many more children will die of measles? will any of them be in Illinois? will I know their families? will my children see a war within their own country’s borders? will there be a draft? will farmers in my county lose their farms? will my mother lose her Medicaid? will I lose my right to vote if my birth certificate name does not match my passport? what about women who don’t have passports?

8. Before I got too sick to leave the house, I complained at my local USPS about the absence of Black History stamps.

9. RIP Roberta Flack. I listened to this album this week, and I highly recommend doing the same!

10. In spite of the flu, last weekend I cleared the remaining slush from my sidewalks, and, on the night before trash day, I remembered to put the bins out.

As always, sending thanks and gratitude from my hopefully-not-compromised heart, through my fingertips, and straight to wherever you find yourself while reading this. Thank you for being here, for reading to the bitter end, and for your support. Rest up, stay hydrated, and do at least one nice thing for yourself today! xoxox, F

currently reading | tip jar | weekend plans | eyeing this banana bread recipe | all the books I’ve loved this year | and last year | make your calls!