Argh, this was so much fun. And I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders being done with them.
Also, I have been fretting about whether it’s too flip to call the drugs I’m on “crazy pills,” so I just want to reiterate that this is all about me. I am deeply self-conscious about this and am really glad for the improvements, but also feeling not quite like myself while changing doses and saying the thing I’m nervous about hearing is just my way of feeling some control over it, like I can show myself that it doesn’t hurt or feel like a terrible judgment, that it’s okay.
Do not adjust your crazy pills the same week that you are trying to finish two pieces for The Post that you absolutely want to get 100% right and in which you have heavy-duty day job stuff going on.
But all my pieces are turned in! Tonight I may even do the dishes for the first time since…I genuinely can’t remember. It may have been two weeks. The kitchen looks like an annex of the dump.
But over at Pith I wrote about this weird happening in Nashville back in the 1880s–The Willapus Wallapus.
And on Tuesday, I wrote about Adia Victoria’s vexed relationship with Americana music.
Today I just sent them a post on hauntings. It should be good, I hope.