I haven’t had much to say this week because I’ve been too sad.
I ended up accomplishing nothing professional last week. I cancelled most of my appointments because I got super in the zone packing boxes for LA. I sent one 40lb box of unopened personal care items that the UPS man looked at me like babe, really? I donated to lots of friends and larger orgs, especially the local ones that can make an immediate difference, like the LAFD and Baby2Baby.
I already donated a big chunk last week, but all paid subscription revenue will continue going to Baby2Baby, LAFD, and the Red Cross for the next three months, maybe longer. I’ll rotate between the three. We’ll see how long things burn on.
But I don’t owe you a performative explainer of what I’ve done and haven’t done or why. The “look what a good person I am” tap dance. Who cares. If someone has an opinion, let them have it. I’m just happy that any of us are getting out from behind our keyboards and doing anything, because every little thing really does count right now.
I think our common frustration stems from the fact that no matter what we do, it all still feels like a drop in the bucket. My best hope is that we can channel that frustration into something collective and productive and not turn against one another.
I am so deeply connected to home. Coming from a split family where I never felt like either parents’ house was my own, when I got my first little apartment, I poured my heart into making it a sanctuary. And that has never changed with every home since. Even now, even living in a city like New York that beckons you out constantly, my home is the nucleus of my life and where I prefer to be above anything else. To lose that would unmoor me in a way I hope I never have to confront. And yet, so many people I love had to do that very thing this week.
In my former home of Atlanta, they’re having snow days. Snow days! Do you know how rare that is there? I’m watching friends on Instagram go sleighing with their kids in Atlanta while others are posting the torched ruins of their life’s work.
But climate change isn’t real, right?
There are so many incredible resource lists going around, I especially liked the one
shared on her Substack (you can click on her name to go look).I also took this as a cue to do a hard look at our insurance and add Difference in Condition to our policy, just in case. I’d been slacking on renewing my driver’s license and some other life admin, but it put my rear in gear about updating and organizing all my identity paperwork as well. I’m not a doomsday prepper, but there are certainly things we haven’t buttoned up that would bite us if something did happen. New York has had enough of its own disasters that there is precedent. Take a look at your own and make sure you’re looked after, it can’t hurt.
I know we all feel many of the same feelings right now. Powerless, without the right words. I don’t have them either, and words are my trade. I’m sorry — I wish I had the sentences to set this right, to soothe, to rationalize. There is no right or wrong way to carry on. But I am sending love to each and every one of you, because I know we are all hurting.
At the end of the day, we’re all just little specs of dust on this big spinning orb, and we are all at the mercy of her whims.
L.A., I love you. L.A. friends, you know I am with you.
I’ll be back in your inbox Tuesday with some ideas about what to wear in this savagely cold weather. A little normalcy is nice sometimes.