Dear Readers,
Today began on the wrong side of the morning. I woke up feeling grumpy and heavy, not sure why, until I remembered — my period had started yesterday, and today the cramps decided to make their grand entrance. I didn’t want to leave my cozy, warm bed or face the world. It was just one of those days — the kind where everything feels a little too loud and a little too much.
Eventually, I pulled myself up and got ready for the day. The house was still quiet; everyone else was asleep, and for a brief moment, I enjoyed that stillness. I had my weekly counseling session at eleven, so I grabbed my keys and headed out, doing what I like to call car karaoke therapy along the way — today’s soundtrack was Pink. There’s something freeing about belting out a song when no one’s listening but the wind.
My therapist — we’ll call her Bella — has been such a gift these past few months. She’s helped me untangle so much: the knots of PTSD, anxiety, goals, and even the simple act of remembering to breathe. Today, we talked about family matters — the kind that make your heart feel both heavy and thoughtful. It was one of those sessions where tears came, not from sadness, but from release. We touched on questions I’ve been too afraid to say out loud yet — questions that linger somewhere between curiosity and pain.
After my appointment, I called my mom. We ended up circling back to those same questions, wondering together about things that neither of us fully have the answers for. It left me with a lot to think about, but also a quiet sense of understanding — even if that understanding hasn’t quite formed words yet.
Work today was thankfully calm. No meetings, no chaos — at least until about thirty minutes before I had to leave. My dad and his girlfriend were cooking in the kitchen when something went wrong. Within seconds, the house filled with smoke — not just the kitchen, but everywhere. Three different fire alarms blared, my dogs were barking, and I nearly jumped out of my skin from the bathroom where I was getting ready. Turns out, the culprit was a very burnt pancake.
Once the smoke cleared (and my heart stopped racing), I headed out for work. It was one of those short days — just one swim lesson to teach, a half hour of work, and then back home again. The life of an Assistant General Manager — sometimes it’s meetings all day, sometimes it’s just one lesson and a handful of emails.
I almost got caught in rush-hour traffic on the way back, but thankfully the toll lane saved me. Once home, I cleaned up a little and then started wrapping and packing Bisa’s birthday and Christmas gifts. His birthday’s coming up soon, and I decided to mail both packages together to save a little on shipping. I stuffed the box full — I can already picture him opening it, probably laughing and saying, “Oh my god.”
And now, here I am — sitting quietly, writing to you while I wait for Bisa to be ready so we can spend our evening together. It’s funny how a day can start so rough and end with such simple peace. Maybe that’s what life is — a mix of fire alarms, deep thoughts, and small moments of calm waiting for us at the end of it all.
With love,
Monique
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