“Stories are all around us.”
That’s what I tell every class I write with —
And, friends, there are
many
stories
all
around me

But I need to watch what I write about
I hope you can see me tongue sticking out at myself in defiance
I need to watch myself
I might accidentally overshare
I wouldn’t want to overshare
I shouldn’t overshare
yet

I believe in the power of yet
Do you?

My stories all around me are swirling, suffocating, asking to be written.

The stories have to wait.
I have to write.

So
I’m going to tell you about the hot cocoa that my eleven year old just made me.
Homemade, stirred on the stove
I don’t even care that I have more dishes to do now

I’m going to tell you about the dining room table cleared for homework
Two boys, ready to work – and a cat,
Plus one hot cocoa

I’m going to tell you about a dog sitting under my desk as I work
pretending not to stare at the cat
as jealousy pours out of his half open side-eye

I’m going to tell you about the hot cocoa mug
empty on my desk and
The boys singing and whistling as they work

The stories have to wait.
I have to write.

wait
write
wait
write

It’s hard to wait
But, I can do hard things.

Just you wait
I will write those stories
because they are
all
around
me

I blew my hair dry this morning
using my mom’s hair dryer
I find blowing my hair so boring
It takes forever
So I thought –
Because thinking –
Well
Over-thinking
Is one of my super powers

I thought about how my mom used to blow my hair dry for me
I thought about how when my hair is short it takes so much less time to blow dry
I wondered why my hair looks so good when the hair stylist blows it dry
I wondered how anyone ever has time for this sort of thing every day
I mean, why do I feel a need to blow dry my hair ever?
Yes, it looks better, blonder
Feels softer, smoother
But like, so what?

My first year teaching I used to arrive to school with dripping wet hair
(as if my mornings were so busy before I had kids)
(what the heck was I doing with my time?)
I would walk down the hallway, sometimes drying my soaking hair with school paper towels
You do know school paper towels, right?
Even slower to dry than a hair dryer
My principal would give me a little side eye if she passed me
She was a very proper woman
I was a very young second-grade teacher
I’m sure my dripping wet hair made her shudder

Deep in thought
The hair dryer switched to a quieter sound
It smelled even burnier than usual
My hair was almost all dry
But not quite
My goal had been totally dry hair
Laugh if you want, but this is a big goal for me
But the smell got worse, and the sound got weirder
So I had to turn it off

At least I tried

It’s Tuesday!

I don’t really have anything to say to you
But you’re here
So I guess you heard
It’s Tuesday
And I write on Tuesdays.

I didn’t have anywhere to go, or really any time
But I did take a walk
It’s a sunny day
It’s Tuesday
And it’s April and it feels like spring.

I don’t know any answers to your questions
But I am thinking
I am overthinking, I mean
It’s Tuesday
And I live way too deep in my head.

I didn’t really have anything to say to you
But you stopped by
And it’s the First Tuesday of April
It’s Tuesday!
And sometimes, sometimes I write on Tuesdays.

I used to re-write all my notes to study for Social Studies tests
Margie and I would sit and eat Pizza Hut pizza in her den and quiz each other
I failed Latin though, basically, in 9th grade – Maybe it was a D.
My teacher paused at my desk and quietly suggested I try Spanish the next year
I loved Spanish

I used to play the piano really fast for recitals
I was up on a stage and I guess I just zoomed through
I loved the way the keys felt, but it was hard to make the time to practice
I quit in eleventh grade and focused on my acting
I loved acting

I used to decorate my bedroom door with intense messages
Animal Rights, Women’s Rights, Quotes and sarcasm too
I was the president of the Animal Rights Club in High School, or maybe co-president
We met in the art teacher’s room and hung signs in the hallway
I loved activism

I used to…
I spoke Spanish
I played the piano
I performed plays
I marched for causes