Somehow we survive
and tenderness, frustrated, does not wither.
Welcome to The Simple Things, a newsletter inspired by one of my favorite Oscar Wilde quotes. Today’s titular quote is from poet and activist Dennis Brutus’s “Somehow we survive” that Prisonculture featured in their great post, “People are in motion, everywhere.” I highly recommend reading it, especially if you feel discouraged and overwhelmed by the hypernormalization of things.
I tend to ramble, so you might have to expand this email to avoid missing anything. If you enjoy reading this newsletter, please let me know by hitting the heart button or subscribing!
[In the most vocally fried influencer voice] Come with me as I embark on a regular day of being (not-so) young and (barely) alive in this timeline’s hypernormalized, post-capitalization America.
6:00am I am woken up by 3 alarms (gentle tune from my phone, gradual light brightening clock on side table, and a tippy-tap-tap from my watch) because I cannot be trusted not to accidentally fall back asleep. Like most mornings, the first thing I see is my dog’s ass. He continues to snooze while I cuddle him, tail to face.
6:15am Pee, wash face, put in contacts. I put on a swimsuit under today’s outfit (gardening overall shorts, t-shirt) because today is pool day. I used to work out in the evenings before bed, but that’s not happening anymore because of work so I changed my entire sleep schedule, as one does.
6:30am I load up my lunch tote with the food I prepped last night while Scotty eats his breakfast of the finest grain-free kibble, fish oil, and vitamin E supplements. With my work bag on my back, swim tote and lunch tote hanging off each arm, emotional support water bottle in one hand, electrolyte drink in the other, I am Super Bagwoman®©™ — precariously balancing all the bags and liquids as I walk down the steps to my car where I dump everything. No spills, success!
6:40am Take Scotty out for a walk and a poo. My guy loves to poop on top of bushes but today he pooped on the grass like a normal dog. Are you alright, babe?
6:50am Drive to the aquatic center near my office.
7:10am Drop bag and trou in the locker room. Slap on my swim cap and googles and splodge in wax ear plugs. Do I have a favorite swim lane you ask? Why yes I do, thank for asking. Lane 2 is gloriously available and I jump in, willing the cool waters to wake me up. There’s an older gentleman in lane 1 who likes to do water aerobics by the wall while singing a soul song out loud to himself. On Tuesday, it was Barry White’s “Can’t Get Enough of Your Love”. I can’t make out what today’s tune is. My right knee still hurts after I fell and skinned it yesterday. There I was, feeling myself in my outfit, when my wedge steps on the uneven pavement and I wobble-bam into the sidewalk outside the Westin Hotel in downtown Atlanta. Amazingly, no one was around to see me trip, but I remain humbled by the universe.
8am Shower. Blow dry hair. Put face on so as to not scare small children.
8:25am I finish the audiobook I was listening to, Eddie Winston Is Looking for Love by Marianne Cronin as I arrive at office. This is the 63rd book I’ve read this year, which is already more than the 25 books I read last year. I unload showroom samples from my car for orders that need to go out and then I head to the office kitchen to heat up my breakfast: Carrot cake baked oats with cinnamon honey yogurt and sour cream and onion egg whites with spinach. [Jenn Lueke]
9am Orders, emails, emails, phone calls, orders, emails, phone calls, emails, orders
12:30pm Lunch is baked chicken meatballs with sautéed broccoli and potatoes. I find out that the payments report that was “NEEDED ASAP” after it was dropped on my lap around 4:30pm yesterday was never sent out, but that’s fine because there needs to be some revisions. In any other situation, a process would be put in place, but my boss/Mom/Nancy doesn’t do systems or processes. I end lunch with a banana because I always need to end a meal with something sweet.
1:30pm Emails, emails, orders, phone calls, emails, phone calls, orders
2pm I start writing this post because I can’t remember the last time I’ve updated my Substack.
2:15pm My knee scrape still feels raw and painful. I squeeze some Aquaphor onto a fresh bandage and hope for the best.
3pm I cried a little watching this story on Kevin Ashton, the chef who records himself cooking for a University of Nevada sorority. I love his Reels and he genuinely seems like a nice person. You can tell how much he is adored by the women he cooks for. Honestly, it’s been a really long and emotionally charged week. I don’t blame anyone for deleting the apps to touch grass and cry. Hell, I’ll join you.
3:46pm Nancy calls to say she’s running late to the office and will be in later. Girl, you’re semi-retired. Do whatever you want.
3:50pm Read the bajillion Substacks in my inbox that I subscribe to.
4pm Starting to feel a little drowsy, so when my coworker leaves our shared office for the warehouse, I start to do some squats to wake myself up.
4:30pm I just need to make it to 5pm…
5pm Let’s plow this popsicle stand. I start Kate Strickler’s I Just Wish I Had a Bigger Kitchen on audiobook on my commute home.
5:30pm Bump into Scotty’s dogwalker and chat a bit before he leaves for vacation for 2 weeks. After I get in, I always like to drop my bags and talk and pet Scotty for about 5 minutes. He tells me about his day, paws my leg for more scratches, and I tell him how much I missed him. If he could help me carry my bags upstairs, it would be perfect.
5:50pm Dinner is a half cup of cottage cheese and half can of tuna mixed with sour cream and onion seasoning, lemon, sweet relish, and cucumbers. I balance it out with a can of Diet Coke and some Dots pretzels. I watch a couple episodes of The Paper on Peacock and I find it fills the Parks and Recreation-shaped hole in my heart.
7pm Wash dishes. Dry dishes. Put away dishes. Refill my emotional support water bottle and head over to G’s house. G, M, and I started monthly meetups to catch up and hang over wine and books in San Francisco until I left. Both moved back to Atlanta shortly after I did and we’ve carried on ever since. Tonight’s topics: G’s neighbor’s homemade rice krispies treats, Scorpio traits, and swapping Google Calendar and life organization tips.
9:40pm Drive home. Text good night to my boo bear J and fall asleep with the Kindle open and unread.
Off the Clock
This part from Animal Instinct by Amy Shearn is perfection:
“One of Rachel’s fatal flaws had always been giving people the benefit of too much doubt. It made it possible for her to connect with a lot of people, to see the good in anyone, yes, to enjoy first dates immensely, but it also meant she dealt with loads and loads of bullshit under the guise of being a good sport.”
Oh my, what a big beautiful deck you have. [Deck.Gallery]
Last weekend I started Tessa Hull’s Feeding Ghosts, but stopped part of the way because it was just too emotionally intense for me to handle. Hull and I are both Chinese American with family members who were touched by the political and historical turmoil in China during the 1930s-80s, so to say things hit too close to home is putting it lightly. For a little distance, I went back to Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis — a story about a hapless PhD tapped by the United Nations to head up a task force dedicated to rehabilitating ISIS brides. It’s a comedy.
These overnight strawberry oats are so easy to make and really helps keep me full until lunch.
I can’t wait for soup season. Gonna make this Thai red curry potsticker soup and all the tortellini soups, like this butternut squash and mini meatballs one. I’m here for sweater season, not sweatin’ season.
I love you and don’t forget to eat something,
G





I'm always happy to see your name pop up in my inbox. Thank you for sharing a bit more about your life. <3