Hello Darling Ones,

How’s February been treating you? Things have been alternating between awful and amazing here.

My sister had a breast cancer scare that required surgery and all that hullaballoo, but it’s benign.

There was also a sisterly job loss, but a better job came along and she’s so much happier.

There was a mouse in my house, but Los Gatitos hunted the teeny guy down and I got him into a box and released him outside.

Mostly, I spend my days trying to keep my mind and my hands busy so that I don’t think too much. Since I can’t work much this requires extra effort on my part.

I try to avoid thinking because nothing good comes of that. I’m creeping up on two years without a steady income and my savings have gone from five numbers to four numbers and soon to be three numbers. Just writing that sentence makes my breath come a little faster. We’ve enacted severe austerity measures here because I’m not optimistic about getting on the dole considering the current state of affairs.

From there my thinking spirals out into the current state of affairs and that doesn’t go well, then I get to add a sprinkle of shame on top of everything for being selfishly concerned about myself and not doing enough to change things.

It all quickly devolves into hopelessness and nihilism.

See why thinking is bad? So bad. Awful. Zero stars.

The problem that arises is that writing requires thinking. I love writing. I miss writing, but see little use in repeatedly writing about going bankrupt and being homeless while the world burns. It doesn’t even feel cathartic. It feels like shovel coal into the fiery furnace of anxiety.

So what’s a supergenius to do? I got a plan for that.

Between shoving murder mysteries into my brain and binging tv about cults, cons, and social media influencers (all kinda the same thing, no?), I’m reading Open Socrates: The Case for a Philosophical Life by Agnes Callard. This is, I’m sure, going to solve my problems. It’s been 30 years since I engaged with So Crates (in political theory classes not just “Bill & Ted’s”). With this book and magical thinning I’m going to get to a place where I can write about how much I loved Neko Case’s memoir and why social media influencers and family vloggers are so creepy and fascinating. Best of all I’m going to be able to do this without shouting about being destitute and being shipped off to a childless cat lady on SSRIs camp.

It’s gonna work. Right? RIGHT?

Not yet philosophically yours,
Jodi