My Longest Day
It has been quite a chaotic past few weeks. Allow me to debrief...
Hi, hi, hi!
I hope everyone is enjoying their Saturday. So far, mine has been filled with a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel, two cappuccinos, some tv watching, laughing with Andrew on the couch, and tons of rain.
Can you ask for much more?
It’s May 20th, 2023.
And boy has it been a month.
On May 2, 2023, the Writer’s Guild of America decided to go on strike. That being said, every television show and film that is in production at the moment, completely ceases work. And yes, that includes me.
Here I am leaving the office Tuesday morning after the meeting we were told the news that we wouldn’t be working until the strike was over and, the best part, that we would not be paid much longer.
Not sure if you can tell by my facial expression, but I was not too happy.
I knew this was going to be a historical day, so I figured I’d snap a photo.
At a complete loss of what to do, I called Andrew, my parents, and my sister, Emerald, to vent and get any advice possible. I couldn’t believe I would be out of work and not have an income for the foreseeable future.
In an effort to clear my mind or get my mind straight, I figured I’d walk home from 30 Rock and think.
As I was walking home, I couldn’t think straight. My mind felt like static and completely unable to form any coherent thought.
…And then it starting pouring.
I kid you not, it was the heaviest rain that I’ve experienced since I’ve lived in New York. And I was walking home in it. Luckily, I was about 4ish blocks away from home, so I figured I’d tough it out. The rain was filling my eye balls to the point I could barely see what was in front of me.
No exaggeration!
As soon as it started raining, I starting crying and laughing. The whole situation felt very apropos and cinematic. It felt very Midge Maisel.
When I walked through the door, I looked at myself in the mirror. Soaked by polluted rain, a (now) transparent button up, and a very sad, disappointed girl.
The tears started pouring.
But I couldn’t let this overpower me. I couldn’t.
So, I did what any person does when they need to think and decompress: make a frozen cauliflower pizza and clean underneath their bed.
It felt super weird. I was home at 12 in the afternoon, with nothing to do. Nothing. For, perhaps, the first time ever.
I no longer have schoolwork, no things needing to be done around the house, no job that I was responsible to go to—nothing.
The thought, though still scary, was freeing.
This was all completely out of my control.
Due to the uncertainty around the entire situation, I didn’t want to just sit in my apartment for days and weeks on end by myself (Andrew was visiting family in Kentucky at this time). So—I did what I felt was best—and bought a ticket back to Kentucky.
Okay, I know, I know. I know. Southwest? I really don’t care about my mental or physical health. Right? Listen, it was the cheapest flight to Kentucky in less than a 24-hour duration. Cut me some slack.
After I booked this flight, I felt a good hit of dopamine and knew this was the right thing I needed to do. Nothing brings me back to my center quite like visiting home for a bit.
But prior to this flight, something exciting happened…
One of my favorite artists is a photographer and director named Sarah Bahbah. I’ve been keeping up with her art for years. Recently, she came out with a beautiful photo book of all of her photos from the last 10 years, and I purchased it! I was so happy to get my hands on the beauty.
Anyway, I knew she was doing a book tour around the U.S., so I was keeping up with what locations she was visiting and when. Fortunately, she was visiting New York City and, lo and behold, I won two tickets to go to her Q&A/book signing!
I was freaaaakin’ out about this and was overjoyed that it was happening on the same day that everything, well, uh, sorta—went to shit.
One of my first friends in New York, Noa, is also a fan of Sarah Bahbah—so I invited her to come with. Luckily, she was able to go, and we went to the event together at Soho House in Chelsea.
It was exactly what I needed after such a cruddy, cruddy day.
The event ended around 10pm, so I resorted to Uber as my mode of transportation for the evening (I don’t care what the cost is, if it’s after 10pm, my ass is absolutely getting in an Uber, especially after the day I’ve had).
As I was looking out the car window, I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming feeling that things were going to be okay. I was reflecting on the day and although I was confused, lost, and particularly frustrated, I knew it was all going to be okay.
I remember looking at the time and I was astonished that it was only 10:33pm. I felt like I had lived 4 different lives within that day. I opened up my notes and wrote:
“I declare today the world’s longest day.”
I swear, it felt like the longest day I had ever experienced. I guess I was feeling poetic or something to jot that down in my notes?
“Art comes from pain,” right? (Ha!)
So, here I sit, three weeks later, still completely lost on what is next. I will be applying for unemployment on Monday and hopefully that will help me out.
It’s okay to be lost—right?
I like to think, since the beginning of time, people always have thought that everyone around them seems to have their shit figured out except themselves.
But really, it’s bullshit.
And I mean that in a lighthearted way! Most people don’t have it figured out. I don’t. I definitely, definitely don’t.
And that is soooooo okay.
I mean… it’s actually preferred? Nobody who has it all figured out is all that fun to be around, right?
I think the only thing to figure out is that there is really no solution in the quest of ‘figuring it out’. Does that make sense? (I swear I haven’t been doing drugs on my free time. Listen, I can’t drink caffeine after 7pm, or I’m wired for the rest of the night.)
Life is meant to be experienced and we are supposed to learn by fucking up or having curve balls thrown at you that you definitely didn’t ask for. That’s just part of it; part of the beauty.
But some days feel heavier than others. Sometimes I still feel like I am 16. But I’m not anymore.
I am approaching 25 this year and it makes me feel… uh… interesting. I know that there isn’t a timeline of what should happen in our lives, but I can’t help but feel an ounce of that creeping up on me.
I don’t love that. But I embrace it. And I try to sit with the feeling and work through it to the best of my ability.
As I always talk about, the only thing to do is be kind to yourself and others. Give yourself grace, understand the rain will pass, and embrace the good, the bad, and all the crap.
At the end of my personal journal entries I write, I always sign off with:
“So grateful, so blessed, so lucky” regardless of how I may be feeling.
Because I am still so blessed and so lucky. Yeah this is a little bump in my road at the moment, sure, but is it?
I think it is a blessing in disguise.
This felt really liberating to write today. I really needed to write this and get this off my chest.
If you’re struggling to in any area of your life, please know that you are not alone and everything will be okay. It will. I promise.
Keeping a positive attitude is step one.
“There will always be bumps in the road. Count your blessings, not your troubles.”
- Uncertain of author (oops)
We’ve got this, y’all!
My main focus right now: be happy, be kind, and find something sweet in my apartment to eat because I am quite hungry.
Have a wonderful rest of your weekend!
Best,
