“Why Don’t You Write My Eulogy Now So I Can Correct It?” (2019) | BES: Aug. 2021


CHOSEN BOOK:

“Why Don’t You Write My Eulogy Now So I Can Correct It?” (2019) by Patricia Marx and illustrated by Roz Chast

((nonfic; humor))


TRIGGER WARNINGS:

Heavy on the topic of food, judgments, “skinny days”.


THEMES:

Dinner parties, food, stiff personalities, humor, brevity, introduction, illustrations, words from a mother, jokes, advice, water colors, wallpaper, color, patterns, artistry, creativity, light read, caring about what others think.


SUMMARY:

If you’re looking for a decently easy read without a lot of weight in terms of topics and just something to fill in some of your time while you read short sentences and view illustrations that are pleasing to the eye, this may be the short read for you!

I picked out this book from the nonfiction humor section at the library and if anything, it helped remind me of a similar though more serious and more engaging book that I own and have owned for a couple of years now regarding the wisdom passed down from mothers and loved ones (a book I began but never finished, obtained Oct-Nov 2018 approximately, maybe 2019, I hope to read it through fully one day soon, it’s called “What To Do When I’m Gone” by Suzy Hopkins and Hallie Bateman). Personally for me, this book by Marx and Chast was okay but nothing really groundbreaking and nothing that I’m taking away a whole lot from. It was nice to read though and get another perspective on the types of mothers that exist out in the world. Arguably, it makes this BES post pretty easy too, which I need because my latest BES post for QI I’ve been avoiding lately and procrastinating on and I’m only doing this post first so I get one other book done and returned soon, and then can trick myself into working on that post to get it done and let loose into The Void. Back to this book though, it was pretty food and dinner party focused and there were some things I didn’t jive with but that could just be from my point of view. More on that later.

I do think the illustrations of this book really adds a shine to it that would be otherwise dull and boring without them, so that is some great teamwork!! If you pick up this book yourself, what do you think stands out the most for you? Are my observations in this post different and what challenges could you raise from my own words that you could add into the blogosphere as well? More opinions, more eyes, more minds are great, great things. Cheers, my friends!!


BOOK LENGTH:

81 pages


MY RECOMMENDATION SCORE:

1/5


OUTSTANDING QUOTES, IDEAS OR IMAGES:

  1. So, this is generally how the book is set up: the far left page features either a blank water color solid color or a water colored pattern that reminds me especially so of wallpaper. Sometimes the theme of this is carried over to the right page where it may make an appearance in the illustration, but it’s not always the case either so this may have just been a stylistic choice. On the right page, is the advice from Marx’s mother with an accompanying illustration by Chast. Her style is quite scratchy and colorful and full, and great, great additions to the work of text. I particularly enjoyed the water color wallpaper and some of the usage of either black solid colors on the left or this rich and creamy vanilla, butterscotch type color. 😁😍😊
  2. BES 7 - Susan WDYW == Aug. 2021
  3. Personally for the above picture, I thought it was just lovely art and quirky enough and aesthetically pleasing to the eye. Far better than anything else I could come up with myself!! I love the use of light and shadow… I really ought to use more shadow in my own work haha. Love it. (Marx & Chast, 2019, p. 9)
  4. BES 7 - Rainbow
  5. We all know how much I LOVE rainbows, so it’s only fitting that this beautiful, beautiful illustration sees the light of the Internet and the powerful and interesting advice that makes it up–though I’m not sure how much you could get away with that today!! Love the shadow, the light and the detail and scratchiness of it all. What do you think? I think this is my favorite one by far. 🧡🧡🧡 (Marx & Chast, 2019, p. 21).

flight-of-ideas-bes-thumb-2.19.21

THOUGHTS OR IDEAS I HAD WHILE READING:

Not really any that stood out for this book, and honestly I think this is the shortest BES post I’ve ever done in the last 5 years lmao It probably won’t ever be this short again, I imagine. This book overall was all right, not anything super spectacular though or something I was super engaged in or had time for other things to think about. I’d say I was pretty mindful during it and that the flags I did write down were largely regarding the illustrations more than the text itself. I’d also say the short length was helpful because it made it all the more easy to ingest in a short, timely fashion.


CRITICAL CORNER:

So, when I chose this book I was very intrigued and curious and the short length did stand out to me quite a bit. Again, like I mentioned in the summary, it reminded me of this other book I started to read, own and never finished, and so I thought this book in question would hold the same amount of weight, relevancy, importance and significance. I was quite a bit disappointed. I feel like Marx’s mother and her priorities (particularly so much talk of dinner parties) were sloppy at best and borderline irritant and stiff and harsh at other times. Her mother seems to be quite concerned of what everyone else is thinking and by Marx’s own account, her mother would be nice and kind to everyone else first but less so and less soft and gooey with her own kids. Marx has taken this well though because she views being told the truth and not having it sugarcoated as more authentic and fundamental, knowing her mother wouldn’t tell her nonsense if she didn’t mean it and Marx has learned to live around it. I do wonder how this would be a challenge if other ailments like mental or physical health would be at play and how this might not bode well for such instances. It kinda reminds me of Odin and how I write him in my fanfic involving the teenage, mental health one, D&D. It’s…interesting.


MY EXPERIENCES: WHAT KEPT ME READING AND THE BOOK’S IMPACT ON ME:

I’d definitely say the short length of this book was super duper appealing. But I also think I barely got anything significant or interesting to take away from this book. I don’t think it had much of an impact and makes me see where my own Mom has done a lot more than maybe some other mothers out there. I also feel that for the author themselves that as the book went on the narrower and narrower their target audience became.

But maybe you will find something more out of it yourself!! I suggest you pick it up at the library and glib your way through it with a patient stroll. You never know what you might find!!

This again is probably the first time I’ve ever written such a short post and I’m grateful to be able to get it done (even if I was looking at it like a chore most of the time while writing, and even more so the dread that is going to come when I have to address my neglected other BES post for QI, but I know I have to do it, I have to not avoid! I have to DO!) Okay, let’s hurry on and get to the editing phase of this and then the final publication button.

Thanks so much for reading this post and stay tuned for my next and upcoming ones!! After I publish QI, would you rather see a new BES or my revival of an old one from years ago? Let me know in the comments!!! Stay safe out there. xxx


My next book to read is…. & My next BES post focuses on….

Next BES: “Quiet Influence”

Next nonfic book: “Dear Life”; next fic book “Hazards of Time Travel”


TRACKING DATES AND CHUNKS OF TIME I READ THIS BOOK:

8/9/2021 (evening), 8/10 (late morning), 8/20 (evening).

TRACKING DATES AND CHUNKS OF TIME I WROTE THIS REVIEW:

8/23/2021 (evening).

Rereading Fanfics & Can I Just Nuke My Phone?

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com ((Picture my phone in the fire pit, and I’ll complain about WHY REAL quick))

So, first off:

UGHHHHHHH, GRRRRRR, WHHHHYYYY.

Now, onto the post:

IIIIIIII am hating my phone right now. I keep–

No, so I have a 7 year old BlackBerry smart phone with an actual keyboard (it’ll have its birthday, actually if not this month then next I believe) and it’s been PISSING ME OFF lately like, SO much because:

  1. I cannot receive a text message at the SAME TIME that I am sending one. Because if it happens, and it HAPPENS, my phone REFUSES to load for at least 10 – 15 mins (I should clarify, I cannot access those in question text messages from the person I’m having difficulties loading with or CREATE any other NEW ones to ANYBODY else. I’m pretty much locked out of my phone unless I email or call). And that has to be 10 – 15 mins of active involvement trying to have it load, so if it goes to sleep during that time, it just adds MORE time to the recovery phase of things. This is particularly annoying and I’ll get to that later.
  2. 85% of the websites when I do go on Google, most often, save for Youtube and my blog, don’t load. The funky new text interaction and ads just doesn’t work on my phone. When I try and click on them I get an error message. This also applies if I try to enlarge an image via a Google search, it just doesn’t work.
  3. Even with Youtube, I cannot stop or change the location of the video–it has to play all the way through, I cannot, especially now, I cannot change where I put it because the window for it is so small (it wasn’t always this way)
  4. I can’t load Twitter whatsoever. (And we all know how much I use and like Twitter, even when it’s The Void)
  5. I can’t even load most images via emails like if the email is of a company and sample images for promotional purposes it refuses to load or show up at all
  6. When I do have the loading issues like with a “locked” text message (so to speak), my phone starts overheating and I’ve had instances in the past couple of months where it kills literally HALF of my battery power or more. Soooo that’s annoying too!!

Honestly? I think that’s about it. I think I complained and vented enough.

It’s just been proving to be far more of a hindrance than a help lately and I’ve been really getting sick of it. I just want to hurl my phone–OH RIGHT:

8. I believe my keys at work nudged into the bottom center of the screen where the letters ‘T’ and ‘Y’ are (so just above of the keyboard, on the glass screen) while they were in my pocket, maybe back in Feb, and it cracked a (at the time, small) section of the screen. I literally had glass come out and now it’s gotten a bigger scratch expanding from the injured area and more of the glass falling off each day with the glue-like substance beneath it. I did have a screen protector which probably minimized the damage but yeah, that sucks. When I realized what happened (at first, I was eating a bag of pretzels so I thought it was a piece of salt until I found out what happened) my first thought legitimately was “Welp, I guess it’s time for a new phone.”

So I knew the end was coming soon.

Especially given the fact that, oh right:

9. I can’t use most of the main stream apps on my phone because it is neither an iPhone or an Android. It’s…. a BlackBerry.

10. I can’t access things like my accounts on Netflix or Disney+ (which would be helpful at work)

…that I’ve now had an iPod Touch since about Jan. 2020 so I’ve been able to experience the fact, when I’m in a place of WiFi (library, home) where I CAN go on all these websites, I can be on Youtube maneuvering the time stamps to wherever, I can be on app games and such, I can be on TWITTER, I can be on my blog, I can be looking at the Weather app given each town I’m in (to plan my outfits, of course) and so on and so forth.

Of course, while at Amaryllis, because there’s no free WiFi/open WiFi, I can’t access these things— OH YEAH

11. I can no longer go on FFN on my BlackBerry. It doesn’t support it at all. I was fine up until this year when things on the site changed, apparently. Ugh.

—like the Internet and such on my iPod, and I can’t use it as a phone so I can’t send texts or calls but the idea that I one day, with a new phone, will be able to is soooo brightening.

And I’ve been looking at new phones on and off over the last 3 months. I found one that I liked and really attached to but there were some problems with it so that got abandoned and now it’s been over a month since I looked at a phone again. I may still stick with BlackBerry because it DID serve me a long time (I wouldn’t go iPhone, Android only) and it is partnered with Android nowadays or with the models I have briefly looked at so that should be fine. There’s a couple pricey ones and maybe decently priced ones (if we operate on my faulty memory) that do still have a physical keyboard as well. Then there’s things like size of the phone versus pocket to consider and such. Let’s hope that I can start this month again the process of looking at phones. It would be nice, you know?


Now, here’s why I REALLY wanted to blog:

But before that–

Can we just take a moment to celebrate the fact that apparently Mental Health Awareness Month treated me so kindly, and that my iPod was acting up this evening so I couldn’t be on Twitter, for me to bring together the MASS EFFECT of a whirlpool to ACTUALLY be blogging and dealing with my thoughts and feelings IN A BLOG POST like we’re back in 2016 or some shit?

Like, can we just celebrate and take a moment to have a chef’s kiss for everything to have collided right in the universe for me to have my gut reaction to a problem be that I blog (not blob) about it which hasn’t happened in literal YEARS?

Okay?

Okay.

Thanks.

Glad that we had that discussion. I’m amazed, I’m in the feels and it feels REALLY good. It’s been so long. And something about being more active on here when I’ve literally craved it after the last couple of years and to see that AHA Twitter took me away from this a little bit (I mean, there were other factors too of course), I don’t know, it just feels magical to discover at the moment. So, one more gif because I’m happy to find that I can use them and thought of them in the first place for the first time (or what feels like forever) here:

I want to talk a little bit about fan fiction. Particularly, MY fan fiction.

If you don’t know:

Hi, hello, it’s Raquel again and I write mainly Loki centered Avengers fan fiction on topics including physical health and mental health, overcoming adversity, hurt/comfort, trauma, suicidality, growth, recovery, adjusting to life’s difficulties, hope, passion, romance (FrostIron, I’m really big on FrostIron; READ: Loki Laufeyson x Tony Stark relationships), medical mysteries, resilience and probably more, let’s be honest.

I have both an FFN account (I made it back in summer 2014, but only started posting my own fics in 2016) under the name: Unmasked Potential and an AO3 account that I made back in 2018 after someone on FFN suggested it for either D&D or ALU, my two most popular stories, because they thought the fics would do very well there too, and my username on AO3 is UnmaskedPotential. 🙂

So yeah, I’ve been writing Loki centered Avengers fan fiction stories since 2016. I, actually someone that I was emailing with just asked me this so I can say it here too, am more of a planster kind of writer: I outline chapters when I go to write them but I also keep adding new projects when I haven’t finished my old ones lmao So I have a LOT of stories in progress, really none that I’ve finished (besides one shots) and even a few others that were drafted or started but not finished or put together (mostly one shots, I’ll be honest). BUT some still as only ideas.

I would say… over the last 5 years I’ve been dabbling in other forms of creative writing, for instance:

While I was in college: research papers, essays for academic purposes as well.

What you guys have seen the most of on my blog since the start (and no I never fully finished it, gwah) my newspaper articles for the paper at uni where I spoke of my mental health on a public sphere and also outlines my recovery etc

And then, of course, within the mix of time (I started college in 2012) things like original short stories, multiple chapter stories and poetry.

I ended college in fall 2018, so I’d say, alongside also doing blog posts for writing within all the years, in 2019 to 2021 I’ve discovered something particularly interesting since I’ve just started in 2020-2021 to write NON fanfic work, so like more original stories or looser fanfic that’s not Avengers/Loki based: (like at work, with kids, etc)

While I can write Loki-styled things really well…

I’ve kinda gotten stuck writing Loki-styled things really well.

Me 2021

Like, I cannot UNDO the Loki!!

Like, okay, maybe my novel is a little different, maybe, I’m not sure.

BUT like other short stories or non related Avengers stuff?

It all sounds like Loki.

IT ALL SOUNDS LIKE IT COULD BE LOKI.

I HAVE BEEN LOKI’D.

I cannot NOT write like I’m writing a Loki centered Avengers fan fiction.

It’s a problem. I SWEAR it is.

I also swear I’m crying laughing at the absurdity of this. Never thought I’d be in this situation ahaha. And the fact that the Loki’d jab references are too good is amazing too (but I’m sad there’s no gif of that)

However, my problem STILL stands.

The way I write that angsty, depressing, unworthiness and stylistic pull and churn of Loki in my fics, just, bleeds through in all other avenues as well, it seems.

I mean, I guess there are worse things.

Maybe I just need more practice to relocate my author’s voice, so to speak. Probably some awareness, cracking down out of it, editing through it and reading new content will help with that. It’s probably not forever broken and maybe I’ll just keep writing free fan fiction until I’m in my forties lmao I can dream, can’t I? (Let’s hope I’ll have some original work published by then, though!!!) [[PS If you happen to have any published work, I’d love to read them and review them onto this blog too!!! Hit me up in the comments or an email. <3]]

But here’s the real meat of what this post was inspired by:

I’m in the process of re-reading my most popular fanfic called A Little Unsteady (ALU) and… I ALWAYS forget how good it is until I go back and reread it. Like, it’s SO GOOD. THE FEELS. The questions. The existential awareness/crises. I always fall back in love with it and I am reminded each time, ‘Aaaa, yes, this is why it’s my No. 1 most popular fic’ Of course, I don’t exactly do this process super often given the fact it’s been a year and 3 months since I last updated it but even so, little things come back to my mind to look forward to (I’m particularly currently excited and fangirling for the scene where Tony and Loki hug!!) OH!!!!!! I JUST remembered how that happens. Ahahahhhaa Loki initiated it, yep. Then he threatened Tony about it, ahaha. By the way, my fics all pretty much take place in an AU where the Avengers movie only recently took place, I go and avoid most of what the MCU covers while still making light references here and there. It’s just the OG team for the majority of them though.

But yeah. Just little things and little reminders and ways that the writing flows. I mean, I’m definitely NOT without typos “pale white streaks” not “pale white steaks” or without a catch all plot formation (I make it up as I go, a lot of the time) but it’s my writing so it’s there. I’m there for it. It’ll grow and change and transform, probably with the more I read and maybe even, oooo, take some creative writing classes again.

But yeah, I’ve just been fangirling after a long day at work, reading from 4:30p this story until about 9p. When I got up to fix the streaks/steaks on AO3 and then had the run in with my phone. It’s been nice. I’m glad it was on my mind again today and I look forward to reading the rest tonight and over the next couple of days.

And hey, maybe it turns out that I had writing vibes in me today after all. 🙂

Welp, that’s the end of this post. How many words? Probably too many. 2,250, eh, not bad, I’ll take it.

I hope that you managed to enjoy this post!!! And check out my fanfic if you have the time and see how Loki things are and maybe I’ll post up some more OG stuff soon so you can let me know if it is really leaked into my every day writing or if it’s a fallacy my mind is creating in and of itself.

I’ve gotta go, but it’s been real.

See you all soon.

XXX

Song in background for the last hour: “Dancing with the Devil” by Demi Lovato; I also tried changing the song I listened to each chapter for ALU so that was nice. This is my first time properly online all day! Besides rereading where I did. (On AO3) Links in my About Me page for the fanfic stuff! PPS I’m reading on Chp 5. Post written at the earliest, 8:30p – 10p

One Woman’s Persistence (An Original Story) | Chapter 1

Hello!

Welcome to May and it’s Mental Health Awareness Month (alongside borderline personality disorder (BPD) or Emotionally Unstable personality disorder (EUPD) awareness month as well). For the month of May, my goal is to return to the world of blogging each day (if not five or maybe six times a week) with some sort of blog post along the topic of mental health conditions awareness, some fun stuff and recovery oriented endeavors.

As today is the first, I will be sharing a fresh new story that I’m apparently embarking on. It’s actually an original story (so, not fan fiction) with original characters and a timeline that I have no idea will be explored. I’d say the chapters will probably act more as one-shots but that may change at the same time too.** (**If you’d be interested to see my character description for our main character, let me know in a comment and I’ll do a dedicated post to that in the future!! Or you could just wait until I describe it more naturally as the story goes on. Either way 😁😊)

I basically needed to vent from work today so this is what I came up with to do just that. All the names and characters and true inspiration has been changed for confidentiality purposes and so I won’t be discussing so much what happened to me in real life but rather through the bits and pieces of what really happened and how I’m going to handle my reactions towards those things.

If anyone has any suggestions on how to handle either being disrespected or teenagers, thaaaaaat’d be great. Leave them in a comment down below!!! Teenagers are definitely pretty ruthless so any feedback on how to not take their scathing replies personally or how to leave work stuff behind at work and not take it home with you would be SO helpful for me!! I’d love your feedback in any way that I can gobbler it in.

My plan with the rest of today (as I do have work again tomorrow morning): is to reread and edit this first chapter, place it into this post without further much ado, watch maybe a Grey’s Anatomy episode on Netflix, brainstorm ideas for tomorrow’s post (whether that’s a tag, an old film review, watching a new MCU movie, etc.), reading a book, gaming with Animal Crossing and then just going to sleep early is well, erm, that’s it, that’s my plan. 😁😅🤗

So, here is my story and let me know in the comments what you think!! I’ll be back tomorrow to see you all again. I’ve honestly been trying to write a couple of blog posts behind the scenes but this is the first time it’s really gotten further than just rewriting the same sentence or working only a little on a MCU movie review.

Any ways, that’s it. Thanks for reading!!!


“One Woman’s Persistence”

Chapter 1

It wasn’t exactly the type of job she’d ever imagined for herself.

 

Sure, she’d worked with kids before.

 

Okay, they were her siblings. No surprise there.

 

But she didn’t realize, didn’t think, couldn’t have imagined that she’d be where she is now, scrubbing running mascara off her face in the bathroom, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as hot tears rolled down her white highlighted cheeks.

 

“Damn,” she croaked, her voice breaking between her sobs.

 

I really thought I was stronger than this.

 

And, naturally of course, following that was:

 

If I knew I’d be crying today, I wouldn’t have worn so much makeup.

 

She couldn’t help but let out an airy chuckle bitterly.

 

This wasn’t exactly the way she thought her job would go. She was working at a trauma informed residential for youth where they were placed to protect their safety and to stabilize their moods before they went through either adoption or foster care.

 

They were rambunctious little five-year old’s up to twelve-year old’s that needed a hefty amount of redirection but it wasn’t them she had trouble with. Rather, this crying spell was because of the cruelty in words the older teens had unleashed.

 

Sure, she understood it wasn’t (necessarily) personal. They were going through hell and abandonment themselves, lashing out at anyone not just because they could but because, maybe, they thought these other adults could take it?

 

But Jazz would be kidding herself and making a mockery of her tear-stained face if she ever dared to think she could have taken it—because, obviously, she couldn’t.

 

And it was more than just the disrespect that stung. It was more than the power struggle, the embarrassment that sizzled on her skin for having other teens present to witness her humiliation, it was more than all of that and had everything to do with the frequent verbal leadup that eclipsed the entire event, pushing Jazz past her breaking point.

 

“Go back to your fucking little kids house where you belong.” The teen, red-faced and blue eyes narrowed in a glare had growled. “Who do you think you are? Telling me what to do?” the teen, Pez, spat, because his words slid out like the candied pieces of a Pez machine, his white skin, freckled and red, resembling more of a caricature than a real human being. “I ain’t some three-year-old you can boss around. I’m seventeen. I’m human. You can’t tell me what to do.” Pez looked down for a moment, hairs bristled. “You ain’t my Momma.”

 

Hate sliced through him again, “Get the fuck outta here.”

 

He leaned back in his chair, the wood smacking the wall as it angled.

 

Jazz had wanted so much to have a clever retort, a witty comeback, a swift end of discussion maneuver, a challenge to return even if it was only verbal.

 

But instead, all she felt were the tears coming. And she was alone.

 

No other staff on this side of the house within the facility of five other houses and she couldn’t just run away, either.

 

Instead, she just bit her lip taunt, teeth clamping onto hot pink, like she was doing now, between the hiccups of pain and the scars of a fresh wound.

 

When she did manage to get away, about twenty minutes after the air had returned to cool and she could see the lashing fading from the teen’s body, and cast a glimmer of pain at her none the wiser co-worker (save me, please) she drifted away to the bathroom where she was bawling in now.

 

Jazzelle hadn’t had it easy growing up in her dysfunctional household: with parents that split on each other in a nasty divorce, her mother ending up taking her own life and her father drowning in his guilt as he remarried—Jazzelle often had to be the parent for herself and even more so later when her two younger siblings came into the picture, at least twelve years younger than her, by which Jazz was then sixteen.

 

By the time Jazz was a junior in high school, she had to lay herself down to the grass and give up: the trauma had been too much to bear alone and she realized she could no longer keep up in school (what was the point anyhow? She’d never make it to college) and had to drop out.

 

She got small jobs here and there, not much to help in rent or fun excursions, but it was better than nothing which was what she would have had without them.

 

Yeah, most nights she went hungry, but her sisters Margarette and Janese got to eat and that’s all that really counted.

 

By eighteen, Jazz was on her feet better than ever, or at least for the time being, as she moved out and got her own apartment with two roommates and assisted state living, succeeding in getting her GED and beginning cosmetology school.

 

Two and a half years after and thrust in the workforce, she found that while still passionate for her own self-expression and handling jobs on the side focused on hair and makeup, it wasn’t her main source of fulfillment anymore and the thought of doing it for the rest of her life was both nauseating and choke holding.

 

She had to crawl her way out of that existential crisis alone, too, but once she managed, she found her growing love for photography was maybe something worth pursuing professionally.

 

So, that’s what she had done.

 

She applied to a school in the city, packed up her bags and dove right in.

 

Four years into it after taking one year off, she was still working for her degree when she landed the position, part-time, at the residential.

 

While toying with the idea of wandering into a sociology degree, in the spare time that Jazzelle never had, she’d be entering into her forty-second week working before she was introduced to the older teens facilities upon her work’s campus. Sure, she’d have covered breaks before or arrived at the very end of the night or given out medications, but this time was her first time really thrown to the wolves as in being alone working on that side of the house with the teenage boys.

 

So, while things hadn’t exactly gone to plan: between her muffled cries, the snot and all the tears; the disrespect; the incessant tomfoolery; the blaming herself like when she did after her mother’s passing and the high natural order that she’d have to be back to work tomorrow morning—between all of that…maybe Jazz could have done more to prevent this from happening.

 

She was still slowly getting used to the fact that she didn’t work in a vacuum of space: she and her co-workers were a team and they protected one another, laying upon each other when they needed it, supporting, not always agreeing, and definitely offering feedback and posing the necessary questions.

 

…Jazz knew this.

 

She did.

 

It was just hard, still, to ask for help. To not just be the independent, strong woman she had needed to always be for herself, and to finally say, ‘Hey, maybe I can’t and don’t have to handle this alone.’

 

It was help that totally would have, if supplied right and given at the most opportune moment, completely prevented this sob story for having played out.

 

Jazz couldn’t have been crying for more than ten minutes but it felt like a forever sense of eternal damnation that she just wasn’t and couldn’t have properly prepared for.

 

But one small knock on the door, a tapping really, and she was reeling herself back in.

 

Forget what she could have done, what she could have said, what should or shouldn’t have happened, it was done and over with and while her voice was still hoarse and shaky as she mentioned, “Just a second,” her blue-green eyes fixed their stare at her reflection. She could see the lines on her face, the wrinkles like the Grand Canyon upon her forehead, her face battered from wearing the storm and when she scrunched up her pink lips, half crumpled with gloss and still half in place, she let out a long sigh and put that game face of hers back into play.

 

She’d handle the rest of the shift.

 

If she was lucky: away from Pez.

 

If not, tolerating him would have to be enough.

 

And while she may have a shake in her step or the hypervigilance to be aware of Pez and where his arms were at, she knew she’d be okay.

 

She knew she’d make it in tomorrow.

 

Because that’s just what Jazz did.

 

In the face of adversity, she persisted.

 


Written: May 1st 2021 between 4:45p – 6p; typed at 6:15p, edited by 7p, uploaded by 7:30p EST.

Thank you all so much once more, and let’s all hail for tomorrow’s upcoming return!!!

When you’re stressed out, how do you manage your emotions? Is there something you can turn to pretty easily to self-soothe and practice self-care? What could you do to challenge yourself in one small way going forwards?

All the best,

— xxx

💚💙🖤