Write all the grit that’s getting into your shell today as you’re trying to work. The noises, the errands to run, thinned to cook or clean, the car problems — let it all out on paper. Maybe some of it can turn into a pearl.
I’m all over the place. It’s actually insane how many different plates I have spinning and projects I have going. But that never feels like grit that’s getting into my shell—I love the work. It’s the boring grownup stuff that takes forever as I’ve been buried in a mountain of paperwork and what the kids these days call “adulting” a term that I loathe. Having a kid makes me anxious about my life in ways that I was not before. I need a will and life insurance.