hello, i'm olive! thanks for stopping by. most posts are brain-dumps and unedited. no AI....
"Depression is like… when you don't want cheese anymore. Even though it's cheese." — Jenny Lawson depression is like… “when you don’t want cheese anymore. even though it’s cheese.” not even the cheese that you fell instantly in love with wrapped in fig leaf, pungent with veins of delicious mold and whiffs of whiskey at $45 a pound you’d never buy it but you’d try it slightly buzzed after a…
hand not obeying brain handwritten letters uglier than imagined small patch of raw, presumably red skin on my septum the first scratch on a shiny new thing the first grey hair trails of water running up my arms, somehow defying gravity little pill split not quite exactly in half hair with little breaks and splits hair long enough to tie back the pointy bones of my hips against my mattress at night…
Snow sticks around here for a long time. Not like in the city, where it’s instantly plowed and shoveled. There, any muddy remnants are swiftly trodden down to a minuscule layer by an endless parade of pedestrians, then dissipate in no time with just a feeble amount of sunshine. Here, while the residents are quick to shovel or snow-blow their driveways to enable the absolutely necessary egress of…
I read far more than I write. I have written only a few posts on Bear since joining and yet I read through about a dozen blogs daily. I am helplessly addicted. When I open my journal to write, I find myself skimming through older entries instead of actually writing. I read at least thirty books a year, but have never written a book in my life (unless you count my senior thesis, which is a…
Earlier this week, I had an "unproductive day." I could not be "productive" because my hands were constantly occupied: wiping a tiny butt, wrapping up diapers (sometimes multiple in rapid succession), waving and dancing, washing, chopping, stirring, soothing, lifting, holding to nurse, patting, stroking, clothing, embracing. I spent ages cooking juk (porridge) for W as he suffered in the aftermath…
Back in early September, my friend J said this to me (not without a heavy touch of exasperation), and it has been rattling around my head ever since. I don’t even remember what the circumstances were that elicited her comment, which felt rather more like a reproof at the time. Perhaps it was a deadline that had slipped my mind, or one that was unattainable to begin with and yet people were…
(This is present Olive fyi, hello) W and I made a pact that if I didn't post some writing today, I have to do the dishes for a week, so here I am. I'm feel a bit drained creatively (thank you, corporate job) so in lieu of something I've written today , I'm sharing a snippet of a diary entry written almost exactly six years ago. The funny thing is, I've had some writing thoughts bouncing around…
Jet-lag from my most recent trip (not to Iceland) is manifesting not as the typical sleep disturbances but rather as a general sense of malaise. Frankly, I can't tell if I'm jet-lagged or sick, so I've asked W (husband) to pick up some covid tests on his way home. Hopefully it's just my body rebelling against me flipping my circadian rhythms upside down. Regardless, the brain fog makes it…
I wish there were pop/rock style concerts for classical music where you can move and dance, and also clap between movements. It was almost painful to restrain myself from just head-bopping, let alone dancing, while listening to Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7 performed by NY Phil at the Lincoln Center last weekend. When listening to classical music in more private settings, I will often dance around,…
A living list, to perhaps update going forward Asking, "what can I learn from this moment/experience/person?" Trying to reframe situations in a positive light, or even just forcing myself to state one positive thing about the situation. Understanding that I do not see the whole picture when observing or interacting with others; learning to assume the best of intentions. Choosing the "Most…