Time traveling with each tick of the second hand

I am having an unquiet mind kind of day.

I’m not entirely sure why; maybe because I had bad dreams last night, wherein people were burning up large swathes of land, and someone kept parking my car in the burn zone. Dreams where I was trying to sneak out of a family gathering, and kept getting locked in the bathroom while strangers stole my suitcase and clothes. Dreams where someone was haunted. Those kinds of dreams.

This weekend I started raking out my garden in anticipation of an order of flower seeds that should be arriving in the mail. I also read Meaghan O’Connell’s book And Now We Have Everything: On Motherhood Before I Was Ready, which made me physically anxious even though I am not & never have been pregnant. (In a good way. You should read it.) It was a nice weekend, a long weekend, but like all weekends, not enough.

I am trying to write book launch essays, and find time to do some spring cleaning. I am trying to do right in so many places, and sometimes I don’t know how to measure whether or not I am succeeding. But that’s normal, right? No one has it all the way together. The Hairpin and The Awl closed, yesterday. That was sad.

Bloody ear cotton countdown: two weeks down and two to go.