Morning Pages make my hand cramp.

And I've thrown out my back.

Yesterday, I bent over to pull up my jeans and I haven’t been able to stand up since. It’s been a full ten days since I’ve worked. I took the first week of this new year off, a decision that seemed very chic and mature when I made it but which proves now delusional and ill advised as I am a waitress who depends on each shift to pay my rent. But, as a person who subscribes to two astrology Youtube channels and looks for A SIGN in everything, I’ve exhausted my excuses for avoiding this computer and since I can’t walk around at the moment, here I am sitting down starting a Substack.

Assuming that most of you reading this first entry have known me for years and therefore have some familiarity with my old blog, The Peach in the Apple, I’ll save you the hassle of skimming through the, “I haven’t written in 3 years because,” part and just jump right into this new new. (By the way, I did figure out how to import the entirety of my old blog so those entries are here too.) I don’t really know what Substack is. So far, it looks exactly like vintage 2006 Blogspot and for that I am thrilled and grateful but it also seems like something that could eventually be a place to earn a little money for my writing and maybe even start a podcast? Regardless, I’ve been wanting, possibly even needing to get back into publishing my work online. A few nights ago, when I fell into a whiny, snotty, shame spiral about the fact that my boyfriend loves to ride his bike when all I do is bake, it became apparent to me that something is missing from my life. (And I mean what honestly could be missing? I am happier than ever but I digress…) I’ve accepted that I’m craving the validation I receive from putting something I’ve written on the internet and then waiting for my friends to tell me they like it… I have also now migrated to my kitchen and am in a half squat standing position at my counter because my back is spasming again.

Anyway, as gross as that may seem, desperate for your attention, here I am, fantasizing about the Instagram story I’ll post to entice you to come here and read this.

What can you expect from this blog or newsletter or whatever this is if you subscribe? I don’t know. Making resolutions is absolutely out this year as I’m sure you’ve already heard, so I’m not gonna make any grand promises. What I will say is this: morning pages make my hand cramp up and I’ve gotta write somewhere. Maybe I’ll see you here a few times a month. Happy New Year.

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