A Writer's 21st Century Memoir.
Today concludes my first week at my new job, and I have to hand it to my new coworkers for somehow managing to flawlessly orientate someone into their office while remaining calm during an influx of news barraged at them about COVID-19.
My life makes sense when you look at it in Leap Years. It’s more confusing to look at my life when you look at every year in between. It’s as if I’ve only ever hit the correct axis of time if you scrunched up the detailed map of my journey to get here—the day before the day that only exists every four years.
Sometimes, I’ll get questions about whether people who identify as men can join the hikes that I lead for the Los Angeles chapter of the women’s group, Hiker Babes and I have to pause for a moment.
I bought an expensive pack of tissues with acid-trip-looking cartoons on them and a packet of cough drops that made my mouth smell like what I assume the Fizzy Lifting drinks’ room in Willy Wonky’s OSHA-nightmare of a factory smells like.
Every year millions of people all around the world think deeply about the goals that they want to accomplish and the dreams that they want to reach. I have done this every year as well, that is, until this year.
I only ever did this crossing-guard duty on two occasions. The first time went completely fine without a problem. The second time involved the changing of local legislation, the cops, crying students, and Friday the 13th.
You will without a doubt change. Everything does but, what you can do is...
My wild heart belongs to mother nature.
Jazzed About Nature is the Podcast where I talk about all things related to nature and the environment.
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