Too Tired for a Title
*Chapter 15*
Considering how many people travel and cart kids around for the holidays, I feel silly saying this because I did none of that, but after baking for two days straight, seeing Alan’s lovely family and hosting friends for Thanksgiving, I am beat.
Today, after a Pilates class where I couldn’t hold a plank and got very, actually mad, I tearfully stared out the window of my car and wondered why the world was against me and when I would care about anything again. Then I looked at my calendar. Ah. The three day window of emotional vacancy that descends every month and convinces me I will never know happiness again. Bless you, oh hormones, I now knowingly proceed.
It’s finally kind of cold here in Atlanta and my grumpiness over unseasonable warmth has lifted. I just dusted the vents and turned on the heat. The mini tree I brought home today is sitting on the table and I retrieved the decorations from the closet. On the TV, YouTube is tuned to a fireplace, my shallots are ready to make my favorite Alison Roman pasta and I’m going to pick up a bottle of wine from the shop around the corner the second I finish here.
I meant to start writing hours ago.
If I had the energy I’d scold myself, “You need to get back into your routine. Start meditating every morning. Making lists. Eating better. Drinking less.” But I’ve dedicated the last few posts to exploring that heavier load and I’m bored of it. Besides, with my emotional life clouded by feminine chemicals and exhaustion, there’s no possible way I can accurately explore much of anything today.
So, we’re gonna just cut to the list.
WATCHING
Home Alone. I could not get over this re-watch. Obviously, I’ve seen it since I was a kid but Alan hadn’t. Listening to him cackle as Kevin rode his sled down the stairs, I was viscerally reminded of the mortification I experienced seeing this movie in the theater with my father. My dad’s laughter was so loud and constant, I thought I was going to die. I had never been so embarrassed in my whole 7 1/2 years. I was SO mad at him and he did not care at all. We saw Home Alone in the theater three times. What a brilliant premise, this kid literally thinks he made his parents disappear, does that mean he escaped the PTSD of being forgotten by his family? When do we get a, Home Alone: Thirty Years Later, What Really Happened to Kevin McCallister, follow up?
LISTENING
Ghost Story. Oh my goodness, y’all. A new podcast I loooooved. I listened to all 7 episodes while I was baking 3,000 cookies and pies, so much fun. It is, yes, a ghost story, but also explores what happens to a family when legends are threatened by truth. I really, really enjoyed it.
READING
Literally nothing but recipes and Substacks. Favorites this week from, The Weekly Work and The Hyphen. Enjoy and subscribe to them.
I’ll be back this Friday with a recipe and next Monday with some rested substance. Thanks for sticking with me. Happy Holidays.
xoxo.
Another Monday delivery that is spot on; perfect post-holiday read! Yay, Boo!