I belt this song while driving on route 9 between my college town and my nannying job watching the mountains rise up cold and gree-gray from the horizon as the trees by my side show the first signs of budding leaves. The ice is melting and puddles become ephemeral lakes that splash sunlight upwards upwards upwards. It’s been a while since I’ve been in love at this point and this wistful romantic melancholy tone of the song stirs more in me than any real experience has in a while. It’s wonderful to be stirred.
Going through old to-do lists I realized that, on a whole, I tend to procrastinate tending to my kombucha mother. Also I waste too much time stressing about her.
Dave Chappelle and Maya Angelou