I’m not always good at being grateful.
I could blame American capitalism, I guess, at least in part, for always wanting *more*. Over the weekend my brother, as you may have seen on the ol’ Facebook, came over and constructed a bench/storage area for my previously terribly underperforming front closet. It’s something I’ve wanted since we bought the house two years ago. He did an amazing job. I bought him lunch and gave him all the Mountain Dew he could drink.
Then later that night, I was idly browsing one of my favorite apps, Realtor dot com. As V has applied for different jobs in different cities, I’ve used it to check out what the housing market is like in those places – whether we’d have to rent or could feasibly buy and what the neighborhoods are like, et cetera. I get very, very, very ahead of myself. So that evening I was looking around the city of Seattle, which is one that we’ve thought about a lot. Obviously Seattle real estate is just bananas, orders of magnitude out of anything V and I could afford. But I looked nonetheless.
And I truly had to stop and sit myself down, like, MOLLY. What are you doing. You are a 31 year old underemployed recovering bureaucrat, to crib from the bio you give when you pitch your writing. You are not supposed to have a picturesque Seattle Craftsman bungalow with built-in storage for days and elegant fireplaces (plural) and a claw foot tub and a Viking range and gleaming, tasteful white everything and a view of the mountains. This is not a Nancy Meyers movie. You are not Meryl Streep. Chill the fuck out and take a giant step back and look around you and be thankful, for God’s sake.
It’s very easy to achieve something or acquire something and immediately turn your focus to the next achievement or object of your desire. In some ways that’s not all bad, it’s good to strive, it’s good to have goals. Complacency is definitely not rewarded in this society. But I don’t think I take enough time to just appreciate what I already have achieved and/or acquired. My brother generously gave his time and skill to make a lovely improvement to the house that V and I already love, regardless of its imperfections. I have a home. I have family and friends who love me. I’m in a weird life space right now but I’m starting to embrace it. I’m writing (exciting things are happening that I can’t yet tell you about). I’m doing a small part to help improve outcomes for black women and girls in Wisconsin. I’m losing weight and feeling good in my body – no small feat for me. I’m meeting new people and learning new things every day, which is certainly more than I can say for any of my previous 9-to-5’s. Would it be nice to have more money? Yes. But I’m good for right now.
What I’m reading:
What I’m listening to:
- “Pynk” by Janelle Monae
- Good Christian Fun podcast (the Carman episode is particularly hilarious)
What I’m watching:
- Westworld (despite not loving how dumb it makes me feel sometimes)
- Silicon Valley
- The Americans (holy shit)
- Queen Sugar (one day I’m Team Charlie, then I’m Team Nova, but I am never ever Team Remy)
What I’m eating:
- More of those fudgy brownies I talked about before. Guys. There just are no words. I mean it. You’re not living right if you’re not eating these bad boys. (Tasty’s recipe) The recipe only makes a 9×9 pan (which I’ve done, but I’ve also used an 8×8 to increase the fudgy factor EVEN MORE) which means they will be gone like instantly, but fortunately they don’t require any bizarre ingredients and are easy to make literally any time you crave them.
Sconnie Molly 