Rooted, I used to think.

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Bright Lights - Friday, Nov. 27, 2020
On Why I'm an Activist for Women in Engineering - Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2020
Comedy Routine - Friday, Nov. 20, 2020
Night Running in the Rain - Friday, Nov. 13, 2020
Appreciation Notes - Thursday, Nov. 12, 2020

Wednesday, Oct. 28, 2020 @ 3:02 pm

I dream of being with Daniel in Ikea. He has a cart piled full of stuff that I don’t care about. We are at the checkout. He searches his wallet for the joint credit card. I stand there silent for a moment, then say, “We no longer have a joint account.”

He starts to get angry with me. Tells me that our time apart is over, that this is a joint purchase, and that we will share the cost. I say, “Fine.” There was never any winning with him. Then I walk away to find the car. Of course, I cannot find the car in the huge, maze-like parkade. I am afraid and start running. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be with him. I dislike him so intensely.

I wake soaked in sweat.

Yesterday afternoon, I heard that a friend quit their job. Full stop. No new job to go to. And I was instantly jealous, of all of the time that they’re going to have to relax and be creative and do things that are not work. I know that this is not the reality of unemployment. I know that I am just tired. I am tired of pushing and pushing at work. Forty hours plus per week, every week. Writing (and winning) proposals for new work. Trying to deliver on existing work. Work falling into my inbox that I have no time to even triage. Creating and promoting and hosting virtual networking events and anti-racism workshops. Starting an anti-racism book club. Orienting new employees via Zoom. In the office. Out of the office. Scraping clay off of my boots. The contractor is not wearing a face mask. Maybe I don’t care. Maybe if I get it then I can sleep for a week.

I’ve been giving too much to others lately.

I really need a cry and then a long nap.

And then I’ll get up tomorrow, wash my face, appreciate all that I have, and continue to try to make some kind of a difference in this world.

Roots | Shoots