Week 40, 2026: Hard to say no and hard to say yes
Conan O’Brien says not to let them know when it isn’t landing how you want it but I’ll tell you here and now it isn’t landing like I want it. I don’t even have to check the words. I’m not taking in life around me, so every sentence starts with ‘I’ and I don’t even notice. It’s making me sad and sick, all this dwelling. I have to remind myself not to make the dwelling obvious but it slips out and makes me a bore to wine and dine. The dwelling sounds more like news this week. I’ve handed in my two month notice and have to find a new place to live come December.
I remembered not to show it at the book club dinner. The conversation was so warm for how shy I felt. Or, perhaps it would be: I was so shy for how warm the conversation was. I was the fifth person to speak and the first to say I didn’t love the book. I took many notes in my notes app, like:
- Feel like it should’ve ended with him finally seeing that ugly ghost girl and then being captured and killed by the armless ghosts
- Proves my theory that the best way to learn a language is to marry a person who speaks it
- Very funny for the last line in a chapter to be: will you lick my sores with your tongue. And the next chapter title to be: hard to say no and hard to say yes
But my phone was out of reach, so I relied on my memory and was able to remember a few lines I found funny, like that last one.
I’ve now chosen our next read for book club. The excitement! The horror!
On Saturday, Rebecca and I queued up for big sandwiches where I managed to get the sauce on both my nose and chin. The owner was taking our order and asked how I like my coffee and I answered plain in Arabic. The language switch pulled a surprised laugh out of her. She touched my arm and said welcome in a way that was so gentle it made my eyes wet. I will miss living close to this place. I will miss being able to walk to the water. I will miss visiting the lady who does my eyebrows. I only come in once a month but she says she watches me through the window when I do big laps around the neighbourhood during my lunchtime hour.
I don’t want to talk about Sunday because I’m still embarrassed.
I’ve been looking at myself in the PhotoBooth app and wondering if it’s that difficult to just snip in a straight line. I was going to book an appointment for a dramatically short haircut when I learned that I could buy a winter jacket for that cost. And I need warmth more than I need to feel like a new person, probably. I need to own a whole bunch of things before I earn that right, like Japanese thermals and snow boots and wool sweaters and a scarf and gloves in matching colours.
When Rebecca learned I had a pixie three summers ago, she said it’s all the more reason to cut my hair because it’ll grow right back in no time. It would be nice to feel like a new person. I don’t think a winter jacket can do that, can it?