Last week, I challenged myself to write at least once per day. Something I thought, something I did, etc. The goal is to keep me writing, even when I’m not feeling inspired. And also to put less pressure on myself to turn every little thought into something “perfect.” For that reason, these are *mostly* unedited.
Game of Thrones spoilers below, btw.
Friday, May 10
There was a very pregnant woman in my yoga/barre class today. I couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if she went into labor. We’d probably get to leave, which I wouldn’t hate. Would I know how to help?
Sometimes, when I’m walking the dogs, I’ll quiz myself: “If you’re stabbed here, where would the tourniquet go?” The answer is always above the wound (I think?) but I like to be prepared. I don’t know why I’m scared this will happen but I think about it a lot.
For this reason, I think I would offer the woman a tourniquet. Idk if it would go above or below her belly, though.
Saturday, May 11
I love making bartenders laugh.
This did not happen for me tonight.
Sunday, May 12
Up all night after Game of Thrones. I am mourning the loss of who I thought Daenerys would be written to be. How could this happen? Thank God Jorah wasn’t around to see this.
Monday, May 13
I’ve been listening to GoT recap podcasts all day. I feel a little better knowing some people liked the episode. I’m happy for them.
To me, the writing felt like a betrayal. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been paying attention. I knew Daenerys was likely headed this way. But they rushed it. And now, this incredibly complex, beloved (and, yes, flawed) character has been watered down to Scorned Woman #1.
I stopped listening to recaps after one dude said Dany went mad because she didn’t get “that dick” from Jon. Typical woman!
Typical man to think “that dick” is worth it.
Tuesday, May 14
I walked by a middle school on my way to morning coffee. I couldn’t make eye contact with any of the kids because I was scared they’d make fun of me.
I wonder how much blood someone from the Middle Ages would lose if they flossed for the first time.
James turns four tomorrow. His kennel name was Arthur. I hate the name Arthur because it reminds me of Arthur the Aardvark, which reminds me of the flu because I had the flu one time when I watched an episode.
I have the same issue with scallops.
Wednesday, May 15
I went to the pet store to get James a special pâté cake. I spent too long in the cat food aisle trying to decide between beef, chicken or fish. Beef seemed off-brand. Chicken seemed safe, until I remembered an episode of Below Deck where a very drunk rich woman was offended at being served chicken on a yacht. This was the first time I’d heard of chicken having a bad rap with the rich.
In the end, I settled on surf and turf. We’re middle class.
Thursday, May 16
In yoga, I always want to peek to see who doesn’t want hands-on adjustments.
Sometimes, I purposely look like I’m struggling so they’ll come over and touch me.
Friday, May 17
Watched Drew perform with the Chicago Gay Men’s Chorus tonight. It gave me chills. I am so proud of him. It felt good to support him, especially since he’s been so supportive my comedy shows.
Had an asthma attack/allergic reaction to something at the bar afterwards so had to leave.
How supportive.
Saturday, May 18
Someone asked me out tonight. It caught me off-guard and I said, “No, I’m sorry. I don’t date.”
I don’t feel good about it.
Sunday, May 19
Minutes after finishing GoT: Heartbroken. Relieved. Resigned. Everyone’s going to die from breathing in that ash, anyway.
I refuse to say more than that. The hurt is too raw right now.
RIP GoT.