2020-08-03 Hello August!! 🌸☀️💕

Yesterday my love and I celebrated 6 months being married. I’m not super squishy sentimentally speaking but I do like to acknowledge these milestones. What a wild ride so far!! Never could have predicted how the first 6 months as a wife would be. Not in a million efffing years. For real. But, as I said to one of my co-workers yesterday, “it is what it is.”

It’s a good reminder that many things are wildly out of our control. I have to remember that, you know. That the point if it all is to live and try to enjoy life and not let the worry take over.

Now, today, this third day in August in the year 2020 I’ve had the relaxing weekend I needed. I indulged a lot in things that make me happy this past weekend. I shrugged at the pile of work waiting for me and the deadlines and decision on whether or not to quit my job.

After this past weekend, it’s a no-brainer. I got my period and that was the last thing I was waiting for in order to know for sure that what I’ve been thinking is right. It is. The question now is, when. When do I give notice and how long do I give. MVP is being released in September and by then the person they hired to supplement my efforts will be completely up to speed and immersed in it all. They won’t need me anymore. The timing will be perfect. (The timing is never going to be perfect, and, ummm, the universe has a way of reminding us the we are not in control.)

Anyway, that’s enough if that BS.

After this past week I’ve progressed to reducing my daily dose of lorazepam to .25 mg every third day. Which isn’t really a daily dose but there’s no way to cut those little pills down any further so really I’m just going as long as I can without taking another. My original goal was to be done by the end of July. I’m close, but not quite there. Those side effects really are a bummer.

It’s crazy to think that something that I was taking to help me sleep was actually the cause of so much of my daytime issues. Not sure how I was not able to connect the dots on that one but at least I know now. Those drugs are evil. Just one more thing that leaves a bad taste in my mouth when it comes to western medicine. Solving a problem with something that creates three more problems?! No thanks!!

In other news… As we approach the end of July I was spending more and more time looking at Submittable for the lit mag. I went on a bit of a submissions spree and now I’ve got dozens of poems out in the wild waiting to be rejected. Sometimes the rejections come really quick. Somebody looks at it right away and knows that it’s not For them.

In my estimation, the longer they are out there, the better chance They have for actually getting picked up. I can imagine all my hopeful little poems in some ‘maybe’ pile, just waiting.

I did have one set of poems get accepted almost Immediately. Like two days after. That was a rush! The trouble then becomes waiting for those poems to actually be published. This publisher actually said they were up to almost a year out in some cases. Wow, that’s a long time to wait. Still an acceptance is an acceptance. That’s probably why I see in a lot of peoples bios that they have things forthcoming. A big waiting game indeed.

I’m gonna cool it on that front for a while. I’ve decided my next leap of faith will be to put out a chapbook. Pick the best of the best from my thesis and try to make that into something cohesive. I just need to stay on track with that.

That’s it folks. My time is up today and I’ve got to pivot and git on it.

Cheers to the start of another week and embracing the uncontrollable nature of life!
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-07-31 Adios July.. Don’t Let the Door Git Ya!

Remember all that I was saying yesterday about riding out the hormonal storm until the crashing waves calm down? Yeah, just effff that. It really is easy to talk logic than to put it into practice sometimes.

Listen. Yesterday was a bitch. Work sucked. And at the end of the day I was on the couch, half laying into a stack of pillows watching some YouTube video Jim was playing for me. It’s a guy playing like a really old guitar. We’re talking made in the 1600’s old. And I just started to cry.

Was it that a guitar that old could still exist? That it could still be played, strummed by human hands and make such beautiful music? The mystical mastery of fingers picking the strings. That ‘we’ are capable of crafting an instrument out of wood and strings. And compose music. It was beautiful.

I told Jim it made me cry. He said it makes him want to take guitar lessons. I told him it makes me feel like I’m wasting my life. He just laughed.

He reminded me I’m working hard on my art, and that’s a good thing. He’s right, damnit, but ugh… the stress of trying to do too much is, well, too much.

Today is Friday and the last day of July. It is the last day that’s the window for submissions for the first issue of the good life review will be open. And midnight tonight the window will be closed. At midnight tonight the clock is going to start ticking down for reading, copy editing, author agreements, and all things required to publish that first issue. It’s going to be a lot of work. I need to quit my job.

I have been working hard on my art. The new lit mag is just one of the balls I have thrown into the air and I am trying to figure out how to catch without it falling on my head and cracking my skull open.

I’ve been revising poems and attempting to attend workshops to learn some new things. I haven’t really written a ton of new stuff, but the few things that I have written in 2020 seem like good candidate to continue working on in the future. You know sometimes you get a vibe about a piece of writing. Sometimes there is something in the core of it that remains so strong that you know that even if it looks like garbage on the surface, there could still be a diamond hidden underneath.

Either that or I’m just too emotionally attached to these precious few new poems in my virtual poetry pile. Someone told me once to set aside a new poem for at least six months. Let the emotional attachment fade. Then when you revisit, you can see with a fresh perspective if there’s something worth working on.

I mean I don’t know if I necessarily agree with that, but it does help me justify procrastinating revising new material. 😜

One final thought before I adjourn this session. On this day in history (not sure what year) my parents were married. When I think about that.. I can’t help but realize that if they never met or got married, I would not exist. Or if I did exist I would be a different person completely. Wild!!

Anyhow. That’s it.
Cheers to Friday,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-07-16 Thursday’s Train Schedule 🚂

Today I have my follow up appointment with my doctor. It’s at 7am. I’ve been awake since 4:41 (Earlier really). It’s 5:16 now. I just can’t lie in bed awake anymore. Did I try hard enough to meditate and focus on my breathing and the mundane to fall asleep again. Hard enough to give up. 🤷‍♀️

I’m up now anyhow and now that things are rolling, there’s no stopping the train. It’s gonna be full speed before long.

I figure my appointment will be over by 7:30 and I’ll be headed back home.

8AM As soon as I get home I’ll have to leave again to take new tires we got for the car to the shop it’s at for maintenance.

9AM I’ll be home again. I’ll need to do the rest of my house chores then. How much of that can there be? The answer to that is enough. Dishes, pool maintenance, paperwork, calling the insurance company. All the adulting that comes with having a house and cars.

10AM. Time for work. QA testing and the daily team meeting at 10:30.

11AM. MFA grad student lecture on creating characters with quiet courage.

12Noon. MFA student readings.

1PM. Back to work. More QA testing and an API spec meeting and a HIPAA compliance meeting and my one on one with my project manager. All that will go until about 5.

5:15PM. MFA grad student reading.

5:45PM. Date night begins! Something we’ve both been looking forward to all week. It holds the promise of tacos and time together, just the two of us!

That will carry me into the evening and all the way to bedtime. Like I said, a stop train.

It’s 6AM now. Time to get ready to go.

All aboard!
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-07-15 The End is the Beginning

Spoiler alert. The world ends with a whimper and not a bang.

I traveled into the future yesterday and found that all endings are an open door to the beginning and all beginnings are glasses full of possibility. Drink it down people. Get drunk on it and savor every drop. Realize that when it’s half gone, it’s still half full.

Yesterday was a long string of zoom meetings. Strange how one could be so sick of inviting other human beings into their home yet still crave being with them and hearing what they have to say. Still wanting to be a part of the chaos. It’s the reason I’m back at it today. To try again.

Yesterday when it was all over I met my love in the backyard. We slid into the hot tub together letting that warm water smooth our aching minds. He asked me how my day was and I proceeded to lament. That lasted about 60 seconds at which point he asked, “is the glass really that half empty?”

Then silence fell between us as I thought about his question. I look around. It’s the height of summer. All the flowers I’ve planted in pots around The backyard are in bloom and the ivy is taking over the bricks. I’ve positioned the Mandevilla just so, the tendrils reach up and grab a strand of the ivy. The vines have become intertwined and one uses the other to grow in its preferred direction. One climbs up and the other down. I engineered that on purpose.

The sky grows thick with dense grey clouds and I can feel that relief is imminent. It will rain. My eyes weary and in need of the rain. I think about how fortunate I have been to have met Jim. To be sitting here, at the precipice of a summer storm, contemplating life and our future together. I say “of course it’s not half empty. It’s over half full.”

Later, we are in the theatre room getting ready to watch the series finale of “Dark.” He doesn’t push play right away. Instead he goes into a bit of a monologue about meeting me and how things are how they should be and how he could not imagine a life without me. He believes in fate. His statements are less about the overarching story of our lives and more about how it is to take every day as another chance to make the most of what we’ve been given.

We’ve had choices, but could we look back and say we would have chosen differently? I don’t think so.

We both spend most of our days tending to responsibilities we’ve committed to that don’t have anything to do with each other. Some days we only see each other and really get to talk for an hour or so. But we get to look forward to that time every day. I sometimes forget that.

His words were both poignant and heart felt. I agreed with what he said by squeezing his hand and looking in his eyes. And with a simple ‘thank you’.

Then he pushed play and we watched the show. Together.

The end of the day is just an open door to tomorrow.

The day ends as I slip my weary soul between cool sheets and rest my head on a pillow that quickly forms a nook the shape of my neck. I close my eyes and tell the universe I need rain. The rain has been so elusive lately.

Today I wake to dark skies and rain. I say “thank you.” My glass is full again.

I get up and shuffle to the kitchen. I make Jim breakfast and we sit at the table together talking about the plans we have for this day. A full day of work at the office for him and a full day of zooms for me.

Did I kiss him goodbye as he left? I can’t quite recall.

Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-07-12 Insults and Injuries and Finding the Bright Spots In-between

I’ve been in a funk for a few days now. Just frustrated, you know with progress trying to improve my health being so slow. And feeling like garbage every day. And then to have this injury on my foot preventing me from walking was like.. like adding injury to insult.

It’s totally taken me out of my routine and work has, of course not helped. Then yesterday I was like, well, I gotta snap out and look for ways to re-engage with life. I made a plan to participate in as much of summer residency as I could. I’m not enrolled but it’s all virtual because of the pandemic. Some is pre-recorded video which I may not have access to but some of it is zoom. So I highlighted all the things I could tune in for on the schedule. Yesterday was the first full day of content.

I jumped on the Zoom for two lectures and one of the faculty reading events plus the “Library Pub” meet-up after the faculty reading. It was satisfying in the way that I felt I was doing something and was with a group I felt I belonged to. Seeing all the tiny zoom squares with other students and faculty was nice. Sad that it can’t be in person but, you know, just familiar enough that I finally felt the funk start to fade a bit.

Then I checked my email. In it was not 1 but 3 messages from the program coordinator reminding me that the content was for current students and faculty only. One message to remind me, which was very tactful. A second message that provided some reasoning behind it which was kind of snarky (and in my opinion, just a bunch of BS). And a third message confirming what events are “off limits” and what events are ok to attend. Completely unnecessary.

Apparently the graduating student events are within the legal limits. So I guess that’s going to have to be enough for this go round. But it still irks me, you know. I mean what freaking difference does it make to have one more person join a meeting??! It’s not like I am taking advantage to the point where I’m trying to participate in student-only content like workshops or mentor introduction sessions. It’s just tuning in to watch someone give a lecture or do a reading.

If the residency was in person, there would be alumni and / or other folks who pop in to the session and sit and watch. Yes, it’s in sort of a remote location, but people in the local Omaha metro area are close enough to visit for a day or a session.

I dunno. Maybe I’m taking advantage of the system, but it’s not doing anyone any harm. After reading the emails, I felt a little bummed. It’s like.. like it added insult to injury.

These layers of insult and injury are frustrating. I’m literally trying to walk right now and the treadmill and a set at 2.5, slower than my usual pace. I’m limping along trying to walk in a way that does not involve the big toe of my right foot. It’s both ridiculous and annoying. Whatever.

It’s Sunday and the house is sleeping-in. I’ve probably got at least another hour before people start to emerge from their rooms. I need to put my energy into something and think I might return to poetry submissions in the spirit of focusing on my “writing life” in leu of not being able to participate in Res the way I’d like.

Today Z and I are going shopping for dorm room essentials. It’s one of the things she’s been looking forward to for quite a while now.

She’s enthusiastic about living on her own and getting to decorate that space, however tiny. And getting to do that with her is another bright spot that I can’t dismiss. She’s been showing me pictures from the internet with other people’s dorm rooms and we’ve been discussing color combinations and all the ways to make the space functional.

I’m excited for her and really embracing the sliver of hope that it can all happen as planned. I’m trying to push away the thought that this experience will be stolen from her as well. The damn pandemic can’t last forever. She’s got a world of experiences ahead of her and I need to help her focus on the positive.

If I could only give myself the same pep-talk. Ha!

Anyway. I’ve successfully limped my way through about an hour of music and musing about life. As it often does, it has made me feel better. And that is good.

Time to get to that poetry submission thing I said that I was going to try this morning.

Peace and love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-07-04 Cheers to New Poetry and Spending Quality Time this 4th of July 🌟

I’m leading with the poem I wrote yesterday instead of including it as an afterthought at the end. The tag line? “Look Ma, it’s a Love Poem!!”

Driving Toward Sunset on July 2nd

Yesterday was a pretty good day. I had two good virtual catch up sessions with friends, I attended a poetry workshop where I learned something and wrote a poem, and also managed to not do a lot of work and focus on doing things that made me feel satisfied.

And I took a shower.. super bonus plan!!

Of the aforementioned things I would say that the most noteworthy was the poem. I can count on one hand the number of poems I’ve written since February. It was so satisfying to not only write it, but immediately apply what I learned in the workshop to find the right form.

The workshop was with Paul Tram and it was one of the more educational workshops I’ve attended. Many have great topics and prompts, but we actually evaluated a poem and he revealed all it had to offer. We then took that formula and wrote our own.

Even more noteworthy than that was the fact that I wrote a love poem!! I mean I’ve written hundreds of poems but love poems are rare among them. For whatever reason, being in love or loving someone does not inspire words within me typically. I’m more inclined to write about life when my heart is breaking, when I’m down and struggling (except in a pandemic when I apparently can’t put more than two stanzas together).

I’m extremely grateful for the workshop and the day off and.. not to be dismissed.. my love who has been on my mind quite a bit tough he’s only been “out of town” for about 36 hours. We’re planning to go on a bike ride today.

Now I’ve got quite a backstory about my history with 4th of July—too much to go into detail here, But I will say I’ve had my share of ups and downs and steps backwards and forwards in the last 10 to 12 years. I’m really looking forward to establishing new traditions and re-shaping old ones.

The poem probably says it best, though.

I’m going to close with that today. I was up early and am feeling hungry and ready to dive into my chores so the house is in good order for Jim’s return and for the activities we have planned for the day.

Wishing all a safe and satisfying day.
Thanks for reading,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-06-11 Elusive Quests and Familiar Territory

Have you ever played a game like world of Warcraft where you were given the option to go on quests? I have. I had a brief encounter with WOW in 2010/2011 where I entertained the idea of becoming a mage and venturing out on endless numbers of quests and taking on battles and running around discovering all that the virtual WOW world had to offer.

It’s sort of satisfying and fun but at the end of the day, when I had sunk real hours of my real life into an imaginary life, it kinda made me feel a little sick. Time is so precious. I quit and didn’t look back.

Now here I am, years later, reinventing a new character (that I wish had magical powers of some sort) and life keeps handing me these quests and challenges and puzzles. Like the WOW quests, some are tougher than others.

For example, this past weekend the AC went out in one of the areas of our house. I happen to be the resident HVAC expert and have already tackled several similar challenges with my previous character. I did the troubleshooting. Found the problem was with a faulty thermostat, and took steps to get a new thermostat and install it.

Just like that /slaps hands together “no problemo” style .

I had my son help me do the uninstall of the old one and reinstall the new one. My darling daughter was sleeping and so we did not disturb her. It was kinda nice to have some QT with just my son and also a good teaching moment.

That was like a level 3 quest. The universe was probably irritated that I tackled it so easily and so a new challenge was issued.

In order to skip the full backstory, I’ll just offer that there are a few members of our household that have some serious dietary restrictions because of a medical condition. Other members of the household are spoiled and have their dietary “needs” catered to each week.

Part of my new role as household engineer is to make sure everyone’s needs are met. That’s a fancy way of saying I’m the one who does the grocery shopping.

Anyway, several typical items have gone missing lately. It must be understood that I enjoy providing for my crew. I like cooking and shopping and seeing everyone is taken care of. This includes humans, cats, birds, and fish. It’s a healthy house and they need me. It feels great to be needed.

This week I have failed this quest so far. I’ve been to SIX stores looking for three or four specific things and have been denied. Yesterday I cooked chicken breast and forgot it was cooking and baked the bird parts into solid little bricks (and might have ruined the pan too).

Two days this week I have not heard the alarm go off and missed breakfast. And today.. there was nothing prepared that Jim could take in his lunch. It’s his CB day and so he can’t come home for lunch and has to have something to take. I forgot it was Thursday.

Since my win on Tuesday with the thermostat swap, it’s been fail after fail.

Don’t even get me started on the complicated development of events regarding my daughter.

Don’t even get me started on my work taking over my life again and Jim “feeling it”.

Don’t get me started on how it affects me that I can’t be there when they need me. And trust me when I say the grocery thing is just a symptom of a larger systemic issue. It’s 2015 all over again and I barely survived what happened then.

This time has the potential to be way worse. I mean, it’s a pandemic and tensions are high and people are getting twitchy missing “normal” life. The peaks have been higher the last couple years so it stands to reason the valleys can be lower. I’m not equipped for that.

Corrective actions are required immediately. What those are, I don’t know. Where’s the “help” button? How can I toggle to the alternate screen to see what the map looks like or check my bag for supplies? Where did I leave my “time stop” potion?

The only things I have left to say on this subject would lead to seriously mixing my metaphors and ain’t nobody got time for that.

Instead. I’m going to cut it here and see if I can go figure out how to level up.

Game On,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-06-10 Three Types of Death

All those days I wasted lamenting
All the sunsets I missed with my eyes fixed on a screen.
All those neurons bounced around aimed at connection in pursuit of answers.
The real opportunities missed as the clock ticks down to zero. Or near zero.

Did you know that when you are pronounced dead, there’s a timer somewhere in the world that starts ticking down. 48 hours.

In the biz, we call it the death date time out clock. The Organizations that are interested in the eyes of the deceased don’t necessarily agree with those who are interested in your skin, or heart valves, or bones. Or your organs. There are markets for all these things. They are just material. All the parts of you might be valuable. Depending on what kind of life you’ve lived.

At the end of life. Your body is physical potential that exists beyond whatever happens to your essence. From now on, I’m going to try and use the word essence instead of soul. The soul is so overused. Abused. It’s cliche. The universe forbid clicheI

Anyway, back to the death date time out clock.

Saying “Death date” simplifies things a little bit too much though. In the biz, it’s actually CTOD. Or certified time of death. (Because people just love acronyms).

Maybe nobody was in the room when you died. Then we don’t really know the actual Date and time of death. In that case, it’s LTKA or Last Time Known Alive. That’s kind of sad. Someone so alone that they just died and there was no other human being there to witness it hold their hand or think a thought that might allow their essence to surf away to a better place.

That’s something, you know. What if human thoughts created wavelengths that allowed the essence of the dead to ride up and away instead of float down and settle into the carpet, and floorboards and earth below. I wonder if dying alone is some eternal tragedy. That the point we miss in life is human connection. that in death, those connections are a bridge. Doesn’t that make you want to be with people?

It does for me. I hate this pandemic. I miss people.

Asystole is another type of death date. Maybe you’re heart is hooked up to a machine that measures the beats. I suppose there are thousands of people in hospital beds and in hospice and nursing homes that have some sort of heart monitoring going on. Asystole is an event. The moment that the beat turns into a flatline.

Like LTKA, asystole can happen when nobody is around. But it is less likely. If you’re hooked up to a monitor, probably you are already under some sort of medical care that’s being managed by other people. They are watching and are hopefully nearby to assist if you go into cardiac arrest.

Sometimes, though, nothing can be done. And it’s just the end. And the date and time are recorded and the timer starts.

48 hours. How quickly can people work to follow all the right protocols in order to give you one last opportunity to give to your fellow human beings. Isn’t that something? That you can still give more to life even after you are gone. One last gift from the dearly departed.

If there is a tally somewhere keeping track of your good deeds. If there’s a supreme being with a clipboard and pen, checking off boxes and writing names on a special guest list, would that final gift be enough to get an invite to some eternal happy place?

What if you were a rapist or murderer. If, as your dying wish, you donated your eyes to some blind child or heart and kidneys to a dying person, would that be enough to turn the tide in your favor?

Isn’t it absurd to think about. The idea of heaven or hell or the idea of an omnipresent being lurking around and keeping score. I find it so absurd.

But if it keeps the believers in line, so much the better. Some people aren’t born with a moral compass and for them, I believe organized religion is a good thing.

For the rest of us, probably it’s enough to come to an understanding that the more sunsets we can see and the more people we can connect with, the better our life will be. And it’s not really worth wasting neurons on the questions of what and why and how and when. The questions are not the point. Time well spent is what matters.

I’ve got more to say about this, but ain’t nobody got time for that (including me).

Peace and Love,
~Miss SugarCookie

2020-06-02 Introducing… The Good Life Review

I’ve sent some of my darlings out into the universe and it’s so tough to let them go when you know life is tough and people are critical and maybe they (my babies) are not wanted or needed and their message will land in the hands of someone too busy with chaos or wrapped up in their own confusion.

I open the door and let my toddling poems wobble out to these strangers in a strange land and I kiss them on the foreheads and wish them well and wave goodbye as they disappear out of sight.

I fear for them, that I haven’t prepared them enough for what it s next. Afraid that I myself am not prepared.

Someone, somewhere equated writing to having children. To babies. To little darlings. I understand this to my core. It echos inside of my body as I realize I gave them life in the same way I gave life to my actual children.

I probably should submit more of my writing but haven’t been very diligent about it. Still, there are a few out in the wild, wandering about the digital forest, looking for a home.

Wouldn’t that be something. A place where all the writing could congregate and the publishers would have to visit that place and convince the writing to come to their home. Flip the script so that the poem has a choice where it wants to live and.. AND go with the one it likes the best, where it feels like it fits in the most among the other poems. Ahhhh… aren’t daydreams satisfying?

You know what else is satisfying? Listening to Sara Bareilles singing “Sweet As Whole”. If you’re having a tough time trying to do good and frustrated with people who just insist on making your life more difficult, I highly recommend listening to this song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IcqRbPk_bk If you are anything like me, I guarantee it will make you smile and also feel empowered to do what you want to and say what you want and write what you want. I won’t spoil it, but check it out and let me know what you think.

I’m going to avoid the elephant in the room for a moment to do some shameless self promotion. Self promotion is definitely not my strong suit. I’ve got well manicured Facebook and Twitter and instagram accounts out there and am not particularly active and frankly hate what these platforms have become and how they have destroyed real human connection and any hope we ever had for uncovering truth.

Still, the world has latched on to them as if it’s a lifeline. Like the blood running through their veins might cease if they don’t get their social media fix or find someone who will listen to what they say and agree with them with tiny like and love buttons. I’m only human, I’m susceptible as anyone to the pull of it all. I can get sucked in my some I m age or video or story and fall down the rabbit hole.

See that? Just there I got sideswiped by my own soapbox! Have you ever been hit in the head with your own soapbox? Incredible!

Anyway. Last week I launched a new website. It’s been about 5 months in the making and I’ve spent literally about 100 hours researching, doing setup for domains, securing accounts at various agencies and building the site. I’ve been organizing meetings, conducting meetings, trying hard to work through issues and solve problems. All of it leading up to the moment when the site was live.

I learned a ton about block editing on WordPress among other things and now have the opportunity to learn a lot about how the submission platform, Submittable, works.

There I was, sitting alone in my living room and hit that “launch” button. It would have been great to throw a party. Gather up all the people who have agreed to be a part of our team and raise a glass to the vision becoming a reality, but alas, that was not meant to be.

No. Instead there is a pandemic and riots and curfews and we’re all sitting in our little corners of the universe alone.

The good news, is that the evil social media beast is good for something and that’s advertising. The word is out and there are little thumbs up and hearts and even a few comments.

See how terrible I am at self promotion? I should have led with the links instead of closing with them. Here’s the shiny new website for the new online literary magazine for which I am the Managing Editor and frankly also playing Oz behind the curtain pushing all the buttons and working the levers and knobs.

Welcome to the Good Life!

If you are a fellow writer and, like me, looking for a good home for your babies or toddlers or teenagers or adult children who don’t seem to want to move out, send them our way. Submissions are now open for our inaugural issue!!


You can also check us out on FB (https://www.facebook.com/TheGoodLifeReview/) or Twitter (@goodlifelitmag) if that’s the kind of thing you are into. Kindly remember that we’re just getting started. But like most things in life, you gotta start somewhere or you won’t get anywhere.

OK, that’s it today folks.
Wishing you peace and love,
~Miss Sugarcookie

2020-06-01 What other choice do I have?

A friend of mine texted me out of the blue to ask how I was doing. I said I’m OK, but that I think it’s “the end of days” going on right now. I’m not sure if this hellfire of strangeness is biblical, but it sure feels like it.

It would be just like the Universe to send the Earth into an unrecoverable tailspin just when I finally get my life together and good things start happening. I mean I get married and look what happens. Good grief. (Of course I’m not that self centered but how else does one human being approach trying to make sense of madness and chaos).

2020 – The year a deadly virus travels the globe and threatens the health, safety, and well being of every person on the planet. Humanity is tested to the extreme by the global pandemic. Results are pending.

2020 – The year racial tensions escalated in a way I’ve never experienced in my lifetime. Protests erupt into violence and people are hurt and murdered. Curfews are put in place in my city. Human beings are pushed to the edge of what they can tolerate. A test wrapped snug inside the first test. Results still pending.

2020 – The year America launches people into space for the first time in decades in a venture that was privately funded. Proving to the world that not only are we making progress forward again, but are dedicated to continuing on that path, driven by a desire to explore new horizons and fueled by determination. But how on Earth do we celebrate this when any celebration feels dangerous and disrespectful.

The spiral wraps a little tighter. A coil compressed with so much pressure. What’s a girl to do?

Get involved? Volunteer? Wait out the surge in hiding? Engage in conversations? Actions speak louder than words, but actions have consequences.

2020 – The year I was supposed to get married and now that day is a distant daydream. I’d like to rewind the clock 4 months and hug my friends and parents and siblings again. How long will it be before I can hug you again.

2020 – The year my daughter was supposed to have her senior prom, graduate, and celebrate making it 13 years through school. Senior lock-in-night, prom, skip day, grad parties, and graduation all cancelled save for a 1 hour virtual video I sat alone and watched, crying for her and myself and the fact that like most things, this too will just pass and fade.

2020 – The year I was supposed to finish my MFA. Celebrate with my new crew on the back patio, taking turns saying “cheers” as the sun slides into the trees behind us. The vision of that moment dissolved into a perpetual winter with white noise on an 13 inch laptop screen that constantly reminds me that my “internet connection is unstable”. My hope is hanging on a thread I’ll get to see these folks in person in January. My thesis sits in a box on the floor.

2020 – A year that’s already in shreds and yet I push forward for the launch of a new online lit mag. I turn a blind eye and just do the next damn thing on the checklist because it’s all I can do. I mean, I could have put it on pause. Would that have been the right call? No, I don’t think so. I believe in our mission and the power of words. Maybe this is just what Omaha needs. Maybe our mission and lifting up certain voices will help us all inch forward.

2020 – Almost half way through the year and I can’t stop myself from crying and I don’t care. I’m human and I do as the humans do. It’s these private moments when I’m torn between gratitude and self-pity, between helplessness and empowerment. A yo-yo winding and unwinding on some invisible string.

Maybe it’s the end times, but I don’t think so. The only end times I really believe in is the sun going nova and that’s not supposed to happen for millions of years. I wonder if human beings will still be around when that happens? Probably not. Not if we keep going like we are right now.

It’s June 1st. A new day, a new week, and a new month. All we can really do is put pants on and try, once again, to retain our humanity and find something of the good life in the day.

Wishing You Peace My Friends,
~Miss SugarCookie