I rode my bike around and around the neighborhood, breathing my love for the people on their bikes, with their dogs and lovers and children, the tiny neighborhood library, the Free Store built into a wooden fence, old tennis shoes and VHS tapes and kitchen implements spilling from shelves under the ramshackle roof. It wasn’t enough.
Sports fails, apartment fails, food suicide fails. I think these all qualify as a hot mess.
What I’m Cleaning Out
By Eileen S.
My automatic impulse is to look back at 15 year-old Eileen with flashing eyes and a bottle of Windex and say, “Dude, talk about outward signs of inward crazy.”
Productivity & Pie
By Katie DeConto
I also saw about six H&Ms, but I didn’t shop at all. That’s how focused I was.