Thinking about Thinking

I feel like I recently underwent a 12 hour stint that was quietly emblematic of my life these days.

I put on heels and stuffed my pockets with business cards and went to a networking event and talked to other people in heels carrying business cards about reciprocity and judge appointments, and I did my best not to steer the conversation towards books and bicycles. Went to the bar and ducked into a bathroom to stuff my lawyer clothes into my backpack and to pull on my punk rock clothes. Found my friends and talked about bicycles and booze and tried not to steer the conversation towards business cards or what work meant about me these days. Went to a show and smashed into a bunch of strangers while dancing around like I was still 17, and I didn't think about work OR bicycles at all for several hours. Went home and drank a glass of milk because there is still a lot of Lent left to go and I was thinking about books again. Who knows which topic my brain was focusing on next, but in the insufficient amount of sleep that followed, I dreamed that I was unintentionally rude to the Pope and my friends were angry with me. When the alarm went off, I stumbled out in mismatched socks and went for a run with my moral sounding-board and we talked about the intersection of femininity and professionalism in modern-day romance. While the dog and I walked back, I encountered a new friend on the sidewalk. I was thinking about business cards and love and booze and music and I thought I might have looked like I'd been crying or something, so I just talked awkwardly to her dog. Got home and ate some things and stared at nothing. Shook it off, put heels in my backpack and dry shampoo in my hair and got back on my bicycle to go to work.

- I'm not usually very good at catching up with what I'm thinking about.

- Christ, I'm awkward before coffee.

- Whoever invented dry shampoo changed my life.