Writing With Abandon

Two years ago during the Slice of Life challenge, I wrote about my friendship with Ariel, and the messages we wrote to each other in stolen moments of our days (my early morning, her commute).

Ariel is my best friend, and she lives in Israel. Our text exchanges are a bit different now.

“Only had one siren last night.”

“Had 3 sirens last night, soooo tired but doing our best.”

“First night we didn’t have any sirens in our area!!!”

“Going down for an alarm.”

There’s also some others that are different now. Those ultrasounds led to a beautiful baby boy being born in September 2024. His smile is everything and we call him little muffin.

I don’t really have words to describe all of the feelings that swirl around inside of me when I think about Ariel living over there.

I am Jewish, but I don’t agree with what the Israeli government and army are doing in Palestine or Iran. I am American, and I don’t agree with what this imposter is doing seemingly every-fucking-where in this world. I am fearful of what will happen in 2028, if elections will even be a possibility then. I am at a loss of what to do to help, to make a difference. I feel guilty for being privileged enough to block all of the war and death out, ignore the news, focus on my life. I feel grateful that I can do it too.

My best friend is in survival mode, just trying to be a mom of a toddler, navigate a career she’s growing out of, survive in a country at war, exist day-to-day while sirens and shelters interrupt her sleep and her waking hours equally.

And I am over here and I can do nothing but text with her and provide some escapism when she needs it.

What words do you put down for this?

Yesterday, Lauren’s slice about trying to get her roommate to slice made me smile. What her roommate thought wasn’t relatable actually was incredibly relatable to me — working from home and walking around the apartment to get steps in (which both helps your legs from going numb and your smart wearable from buzzing at you to “get up and move”). This isn’t the first time that I’ve commented on someone’s slice about relating to what they think/feel/do.

It got me thinking about other things that seem completely mundane or normalized to me, but might be relatable to other people. A moment of connection. A “me too!” moment that helps them feel seen.

So here we go. Can you relate to any of the following?

• Waking up in the middle of the night to pee
• Waking up desperate to pee in the morning, even though you already peed in the middle of the night
• Waking up congested (especially during spring) and needing to blow your nose
• Your dog climbing into your bed the moment they realize you’re “up” (this might be before your alarm goes off)
• Using your phone as your alarm and checking your notifications first thing even though you know it’s the worst thing for you
• Playing the NYT games every morning, in the exact same order every time
• Worrying that if you do not play the NYT games in the exact same order, something might be “off” about the rest of your day
• Keeping a bullet journal that’s not as used as it once was but is still your go-to planner method (though you’re open to other suggestions, as you did use Moleskine half planner half notebooks for many years)
• Moving items from yesterday’s to do list to today’s, day after day
• Getting the “Time to stand!” Apple Watch notification, even though you’ve been standing for the last twenty minutes (when are they going to change this measurement to include standing without arms swinging?)
• Walking around the apartment with arms swinging or moving your body around vigorously — kicks, arms flailing, squats — until you get the “You did it!” notification
• Starting one task and getting distracted when an email or text comes in
• Talking to your dog as a means of talking to yourself throughout the day
• Singing as a form of communication (especially effective when annoyed or giving redirection to children)
• Catching your reflection in the mirror at one specific time of day where the light hits just so, and noticing all the small dark hairs that need plucking
• Getting more and more chin hairs as you get older (why, universe, why?)
• Saying hello in the exact same way to the doorman every day, then wondering why you sound like that
• Not drinking enough water
• Scrolling on Instagram even though you promised you wouldn’t (self control is hard)
• Looking at your phone while you’re walking, even though you know you shouldn’t
• Thinking in “should”s (I should call ___ more, I should work out, I should make my own dinner instead of going out tonight)
• Overthinking future events that you have no control over
• Being extra snappy when hungry around your loved ones
• Thinking about what to pack for upcoming trips way too far in advance (key word: “thinking” — no real action taken)
• Rewatching a show you’ve seen all the episodes of instead of watching one of the ones on your list of shows to watch
• Opening the door to the fridge to look inside at what’s there even though you know what’s there

I could keep going forever but I’m going to stop there as I’m getting hungry for breakfast now!

What’s something mundane or normalized that you do (and perhaps have sliced about) that someone has connected with?

After a night of tossing and turning, I’m happy to report that I had a pretty solid sleep last night. I did wake up to pee at four or five, but I wasn’t too upset about it because it happened right at the end of one of the best dreams I think I’ve ever had. Before crawling back into bed for the last hour, I scribbled down some notes on a post-it, because I knew that I’d want to slice about it this morning. Then I fell back asleep with a smile on my lips before my alarm unfortunately woke me up.

Knitting club

+ fac sleepover

on the floor

I was facilitating a travel program with members of my knitting club and we were turning in for the night at an unplanned rest stop (which would never, ever happen). We had to sleep on the cold floors of a restaurant! There were even a few large holes/trap doors in the floor that we had to avoid and that one girl fell through. She was okay though, luckily. It was just her toothbrush that fell all the way down.

Weirdly, though we weren’t in Barcelona, we had a perfect view of La Sagrada Família. It was some sort of warp in the time-space continuum that allowed for a view like this to happen.

Garden shop w/

only chips and

orchid + boots

I was back in New York, walking quickly down the street, when I happened to fall in line behind my oldest friend, Rosie, who I haven’t seen in ages, her mom, and another girl I knew from a long time ago (maybe a soccer team? Middle school?). At first I was determined to get to my destination, whatever that was, but my speed walking led me into their view, so I joined them. They were headed to a garden shop cafe, and I figured I could spare a bit of time.

At the garden shop, they only had ruffle potato chips. I was starving, and kept taking large handfuls to shove in my mouth. I picked up a large vase with water and a baby orchid, ready to be cared for. I also grabbed a little gift basket with rubber boots. We continued eating and chatting.

Then it was time to check out. The person ahead of me was bummed to see that I’d grabbed the last pair of rubber boots. But when I looked at them and tried them on, I realized that they were huge, which just left me with the orchid in a vase.

“How can I make sure to care for it?” I asked the guy at the counter, “because you know, I’ve always—”

“Killed them?” The clerk finished for me. I nodded profusely. “No worries, I can give you some tips.”

It was at that moment that the front door of the cafe opened up behind him, and in walked—

MEETING JACK BLACK

having selfie attack

Jack Black!

He swaggered in wearing a t-shirt and a flowy button down, sunglasses, and a smile.

I immediately put my orchid on the counter and got down on my knees, bowing in child’s prayer before him.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” I said as I brought my torso and arms up and down. “You are just one of my favorite actors, Jack Black!”

I stood up and asked if I could hug him. To my delight, he was in a great mood and said yes!

(Please note that in real life, I have never ever approached a celebrity if I have seen them, except for the few whose orders I took when I worked at Mud Cafe after college. Way too nervous.)

We hugged and I told him that School of Rock is one of my favorite movies and that I’ve made my fifth graders watch that and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle so many times mainly because I like them so much. He laughed and seemed to nod like, “Yeah, I know. I’m cool.”

“My boyfriend loves you so much too,” I added. “Would you be willing to take a selfie with me so I can prove to him that I met you?”

And in this dream, Jack Black not only agreed to take one selfie, but we started having a selfie photo shoot! We posed standing, lying down, on one knee! We made faces, serious and silly! We even kissed for one! (I figured P would forgive me seeing that it was Jack Black and the kissing selfie was a ridiculous puckered lips one.)

And that’s when I woke up.

Amazing, amazing dream. Ten out of ten! Keep them coming, subconscious!

The first day of Daylight Savings isn’t what gets me. (And did you know it’s just “Daylight Saving”? But so many of us add the “s” to the end. It feels strange in my mouth to say it the “correct” way.)

What gets me is the second day.

On Sunday, due to a late night and early morning, I was actually exhausted by the time 7:30pm (6:30pm) rolled around, and was asleep by 9:30 or so, definitely before 10. So I felt pretty rested on Monday, yesterday.

But then the evening came and I found myself wide awake, not ready for bed at all.

I read my book.

I tried to sleep, but failed.

So I finished my book (The Family Upstairs by Lisa Jewell).

Then I downloaded a few more books onto my kindle (sorry, books on my nightstand and books already on my kindle!).

I closed my eyes, ready for sleep to take me.

I tossed.

I turned.

I somehow finally fell asleep, closer to midnight than I would have liked. I had strange dreams about knitting club and a bunch of Icelandic immigrants at a new yarn shop in town (how I wish that new shop were real!) and a vintage store with lots of jeans but none in my size/style and a free shuttle (not bus, I don’t really know what it was) for wheelchair-bound people to get to the airport.

And then I woke up around 4:30 to go to the bathroom.

I got back in bed, cold.

I tossed.

I turned.

I did not fall back asleep.

So I picked up my phone before the alarm went off at six.

This morning I have a small medical procedure and I’m nervous about it. They’re going to give me a Valium to calm my nerves, which I’ve only had once before when I was 18 and getting heel surgery. It didn’t have a crazy effect on me, but that was a long time ago. Yet I’m still nervous about being extra drowsy and wondering if I should have asked for the afternoon off. I probably still can, but I do have a client meeting at 6:30 that I really shouldn’t miss.

Blah!

If it hadn’t been the second day of Daylight Savings yesterday, I might have been able to actually get some good rest. And then I might have felt a bit more calm about this procedure and the Valium and the rest of the day.

Maybe tonight I’ll sleep like a rock.

Here’s hoping!

In September, not too long after my car accident, I scheduled an eye exam that had been on my list for a while. Both of my parents wear glasses, but my sister, Tillie, and I had never needed them. My dad has had a few eye problems throughout his life, including cataracts and a detached retina, which he noticed just in time to save the vision in that eye (and the recovery is pretty wild — they put a bubble into your eye and you have to basically be horizontal for two weeks while it dissipates). In the spring, Tillie had seen an ophthalmologist because she was struggling to see while driving at night; they told her she was showing early signs of cataracts. When she texted it to our family group chat, my dad messaged that I should probably get checked out too, since he had cataracts in his 40s.

In August, I started my new job which is mostly remote, and therefore on the screen all day. But my eyes had been bothering me since the summer, while we were on vacation in England visiting P’s family. I noticed it as I looked at my phone or my Kindle — I would be holding it very close. And I started to feel like I was straining, and almost dizzy, after a while. In Mexico, at the Frida Kahlo Museum, I could hardly read the placards in the special exhibit about her clothing, it was so dark. Could this be the cataracts, I wondered? I had been ending my days at my new job absolutely exhausted, eyes squinting as I stared at the screens, dizzy in the evenings when I tried to focus on anything. Maybe I needed to get blue light glasses like I tried during remote teaching? Did blue light glasses even work? And if they didn’t, would that mean I needed to quit the job I’d just started? Was I not cut out for a remote job simply due to the screens?

When I tried to book an appointment with an ophthalmologist, they told me I needed to see an optometrist first, which is how I ended up at a Warby Parker at 5:30pm on a Friday afternoon.

While I waited to be seen, I tried on random glasses, wondering which I would get for blue light that would look cool on camera. I checked out a few different sunglasses too.

When they called me into the back for the exam, I went in, happy as a clam.

As the exam progressed though, I realized it was going differently from the other eye exams I’d had in my life, where I would read the letter lines and they’d say “great” and then move to the next eye.

First, my left eye took forever to focus.

“Sorry!” I apologized as I waited for it to adjust.

Second, she was showing me options. And the options were better than what I was seeing at first.

“Like this, or like this?” She’d ask, flipping back and forth.

Then, after I thought I’d already chosen, she’d switch to another set: “Like this? Or like this?”

When the exam was over, I was expecting to be told I needed reading glasses. I wasn’t expecting what came next:

“So I’m giving you two prescriptions,” the optometrist started.

“Two?!”

“Yes, a reading prescription and a distance prescription,” she said. Then she explained that my left eye was farsighted, and though the muscle had held on tight for many years, it was finally starting to get tired. My right eye had been holding down the fort, but I needed to start wearing glasses or I’d risk both of them getting worse. She suggested that I wear my reading glasses any time I was reading — all day at work for sure, and whenever I was reading or looking at my phone — and my distance glasses for everything else.

“Do I need to wear the distance ones all the time?” I asked.

“Well, anytime you need to see something well,” she said — watching TV, going to the movies, driving, reading a board menu behind a deli counter. She suggested I could get a pair that weren’t exactly bifocals, but would have a zoomed in prescription at the bottom so I could see distance straight on and then lower my eyes to read.

She told me she would have them email me my prescription and that I didn’t need to buy anything at the store today, I could go anywhere with it. I nodded and thanked her, and then walked back out into the store to meet P, who was waiting to pick me up.

“I need two prescriptions,” I told him, then proceeded to look at myself, without glasses, in the mirror. What would I look like with glasses on all the time?

I knew I didn’t need to decide on frames today, but I was tired of the headaches, so I started trying pairs on. I hated all of them, felt a strange kind of sadness in realizing the new me I’d be looking at in the mirror soon.

I’ll fast forward through the rest of it — I ordered a couple pairs that day, including the distance + zoom that she suggested, which I absolutely hated; I went back to a different Warby Parker where I met an optician who found me better frames for my face, which actually got me excited; my reading glasses came first and felt CRAZY, like I’d put on a crisp magnifying glass (which is funny because the reading glasses feel so subtle now!); I went back to the original Warby a few times to get both pairs re-fitted (who knew that it wasn’t just about the way they feel behind your ears, but actually about how they line up with your pupils?!); I made friends with Obi at the counter who told me I didn’t need to wear the distance ones all the time, as I could see pretty well otherwise (my right eye is still 20/20), though I needed to wear them enough to get used to them; Tillie saw another ophthalmologist who told her she wasn’t showing early signs of cataracts after all.

And eventually, I got used to seeing myself on the screen and in the mirror wearing my glasses. (I even like how I look in them, and appreciate how they can mask when you’re looking especially tired.)

What I mostly appreciate though is the ability to see in HD now — all the details on the TV screen (“This is what you’ve been seeing all along?!” I asked P the first time I wore them, flipping them down and up, down and up, to marvel at the comparison), the actors on a stage play, the depth perception as I drive, the computer screen throughout my reading glasses. I am cut out for a remote job, and I don’t end my days tired and dizzy anymore. It’s the best!

So there, that’s my glasses story! Thanks, Estelle, for the inspiration.

I’ve lost my streak of writing one day ahead because I wrote two slices on Wednesday and got to schedule two days ahead, then didn’t slice yesterday, grateful for the cushion. But that means I’m stuck here with a loss of what to write!

I almost starting slicing about my love of musicals (we saw an amazing local production of Dear Evan Hansen last night, and “Dear Theodosia” has been stuck in my head randomly for the past 24 hours), but then Phoebe snuggled up next to me and stared at me, like this:

So I decided, maybe it’s time to peruse my camera roll and find my favorite photos of her from each month since last March!

I hope you enjoyed those, cause looking for the best photos to represent each of the last twelve months was an instant mood booster for me!