Color Wheel 

Holly Golightly calls them “the mean reds.” Sometimes they come in concurrence with the blues, which I guess makes them something like “the awkward purples.”

It makes me not want to leave bed or get any work done. I feel totally unmotivated and uninspired and that’s been really rough because there are things to do but I just can’t bring myself to do them.

Today I got myself out of bed, showered, performed the ritual of make up, and took myself for a walk to find some lunch/get some air/move my body. I didn’t really want to put any money into the economy today, but I didn’t know what else to do.

I left in search of samosas, because that’s what I felt I needed. I usually wear headphones and walk to music, but today I thought I’d just walk and let my mind wander.

I thought about international women’s day and how it’s a nice idea in theory but it frustrates me that we can’t just celebrate women and lift each other up all year long. And how stupid it is that there are men complaining about the lack of Men’s Day, even though there is one, it’s every day, and also sometime mid-November. So, congratulations. Y’all get paid more, get to regulate our bodies, get most of the calendar year to focus on yourselves and a whole day set aside to feel doted on. Cool.

I thought about making a list of all the women who inspire me or have had an impact on my life and realized it would be insanely long and resolved to just continue to do my best at expressing my appreciation as it strikes me. Because it doesn’t need to be a specific day of the year to let someone know what they mean to you.

I thought about how my dad used to break into the pound and steal his friend’s pets so they wouldn’t have to pay fines.

I thought about stopping in the pet store to meet dogs but felt like a creep so I didn’t. I need a dog friend, or a friend with a dog. I need a daily dose of dog.

I ate my lunch and a woman walked by my table and signed at me that she liked my hair, and I like that ASL is formulated so you don’t always have to be fluent in it to understand it.

I stopped for a cup of coffee and listened to two women who seemed to work in writing and publishing, predominantly in recipe books. I listened to them belittle a colleague, talk about speaking Italian, what they require while dining out (surprise, the impossible standards of someone who has never served), mock “mommy bloggers,” ask what the next frontier in publishing could be, trash self pubbing, and talk about how hard it is to get a book out. I thought about chiming in, but bit my tongue because it was pretty clear they wouldn’t like or value anything I had to say.
Walked home in the rain with a paper bag of groceries that somehow didn’t disintegrate, but the doorknob fell off in my hands again so I went back to bed.

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