And now it’s time for…a day in the life…
Well. Here we go. I wake up today at 6:48am. I knew I’d need to be up by 7, and I suppose my body just gave me its own wake up call. Rocky, the pug, is happy I am stirring, because as always, he is ready to eat. Oh, if only I could have a few more minutes, but no, he knows I’m awake and once he knows I’m awake, it’s game over. So, I get out of bed. Carry Rocky out of my bed, it’s too high for his little pug legs to land without me worried about a twist of a leg. I give him his food, half dry, half wet. Head to the shower. You know, here’s a thing: I brush my teeth and put my contact lens in while I’m standing in the shower. I know! Radical as well as excellent use of time. While I’m in the shower, Rocky slips in and plops down on his little day bed. I get out of the shower and do my after shower beauty routine: face, hands, feet, arms, legs. By now, it’s 7:20, The Teenager is awake. I head into the kitchen, towel wrapped around my body and prepare her lunch: turkey sandwich, chocolate croissant, water, two tangerines. I head into her room, put the lunch in her school bag. Ask her if she wants a bowl of cereal. She says “Yes Please.” I go back into the kitchen. Pour one part Captain Crunch, one part Cinnamon Crunch, one part Lucky Charms and add some milk. Deliver the bowl and then get dressed. Hudson skinny jeans, random t-shirt, Anya Hindmarch v-neck sweater with Beagle Elbow patches. Put on my faves, my Coach boats, my Patagonia red vest, my puffy coat, my black wool hat. Grab the leash, some dog treats, Rocky, a 20 pound bag of laundry and walk down the nine flights of stairs to the real world. Why do I walk down the stairs? Our working elevator has been out of commission since Christmas and I don’t like the service elevator. I drop the laundry off at the dry cleaners, walk Rocky around the block. It’s 8pm now. Back upstairs, The Teenager has already left for school. I put my credit card down on my desk. I upload a photo of Rocky to his Instagram account, Rockythepug. And in the next breath, can’t seem to find my credit card that I just put down. I’ve got to be at Irving Farm to meet my friend Elise at 8:30. I gotta get outta here. I grab another bag of laundry, this time it’s only 15 pounds, frantically move things around in search of my card, find my credit card under a magazine on my desk and am out the door like a bat out of hell. I have my laptop and my Hasselblad with me. I drop the second bag of laundry off and I head to Irving Farm. I get there exactly at 8:30 and meet Elise, who I’ve been friends with since before we had kids, when she worked for the Ms Foundation and I was doing BUST. In fact it was Elise who convinced me to move to the Upper West Side once I had The Teenager. We spend the next hours trading stories of our lives, the parts we’ve missed since the last coffee a month ago. Everything with Elise is natural and easy. But then she leaves me to go to work. Me, I’m in between jobs. I stay. I pull out my laptop and get to my own work, transcribing my interview with author Sarah Bennett, which you’ll be reading on BARB soon. At 11, I realize I need to go. I am having lunch in Dumbo at the Atrium with my friend Lynn. I walk from 79th street to 72nd, wanting the air to blow into my face, wake me up. Transcribing is painstaking, and can make me sleepy. I listen to the David Axelrod podcast all the way to Dumbo. I get to the Atrium before Lynn, by about one minute. We decide to share a kale salad and a salmon. Lynn, I’ve know since the 90s, when she was doing BreakUp girl. Now she’s about to launch a digital comedy school platform called GOLD. After lunch, we head to under the bridge and I take a bunch of photos of her. I ask Lynn to take a shot of me jumping. It’s my favorite thing to do right now, get a shot of Air Karp. Try it! We say goodbye with hugs and I head to the Clark Street train station. My head is swirling with all the things I need to do: settle our health insurance, make an appointment for the accountant as well as the dog groomer, think about what I will make for dinner. I decid I will go to Starbucks on 81 street to finish transcribing. I stop off at Zabar’s first to pick up a chocolate croissant for The Teenager’s lunch tomorrow. I get to Starbucks, I order my grande green iced tea, find a table, and dig in. Laptop out, headphones on, start working. Interrupted by an email. It’s from what could have been my new employer but alas, they are going in a different direction. The news hits me hard, thickness in my throat, head floating, appetite toast. I try to tamp down the consequences of the news. I delete the email. I go back to transcribing a few lines and I stop again. I go to the trash, look at the email again. Yep, they’re going in a Different Direction. I stand up. I sit down. I look at my laptop. And I start transcribing. It’s not going to happen on it’s own, is it? I email my friend Jennifer and we make a lunch date for next week. I text my friend Matt and ask him how to cancel my Uber account. I put my phone down and go back to transcribing, but for the next hour, a Different Direction echoes in my brain. At 4, The Teenager sends me a photo of herself, she’s in a good mood. This makes me feel better. Just her little face. I remind myself that it’s her little face that needs me to put my own game face on. So I do just that. I hunker down. Ignore the phone. Finish transcribing. By the time I get home, it’s 5. The Teenager is still at school. I grab Rocky, we walk down the nine flights and we go for a walk. I call my friend Kristin. Thankful she picks up. She listens to me, she listens to me, she listens to me. I speak for what feels like many minutes in a row, and it feels good to let it all come out, all into a safe place. By the time we’re done talking, or me monologuing, whichever you prefer, I’m done walking Rocky. My bags of laundry that I dropped off earlier are now awaiting me. This is why I do the drop off laundry; everything comes back day of, folded and ready to be worn, much better a job than I could do. I grab one bag, and this time, Rocky and I do take the service elevator, because carrying the laundry bag is way too heavy going up rather than down. I sit on the couch. Different Direction seeps into my head again. I push it out. I want to be in a good mood by the time The Teenager comes home. I email a whole slew of friends, as well as comics, as I have a comedy show to produce that is in two weeks. And so begins my Monday night, from where I type now.
And there you go. My Monday, a simple day in my life.
Speaking of careers, Sallie Krawcheck wants women to be best advised.
In Pittsburgh, trans kids can use the bathroom of their gender. So now we know: we can file injunctions. And there will be like-minded judges who will back an injunction. Thank you.
Danielle Brooks. Love her. “Women are seeing themselves and are feeling beautiful about their bodies because they’re having people who are bold enough to say that they’re fearless in their skin. It’s been cool to get their reaction and see women be proud to be in bathing suits and not be afraid of showing stretch marks or whatever.”
No kidding, moms don’t sleep. Tell me something I don’t know.
Unlearning. It’s a thing.
Breadcrumbing. Also a thing.
And the Oscars. Was a thing.
Also have sex and be happy.
Now have a laugh with Janelle James.