March 31 - Car(d)

And, once again, we have reached the end of March. Thank you so much to everyone who’s followed along and, of course, the hosts of TWT. Also special little shoutout to two of my wonderful sisters who tagged along this month, it’s been so amazing to get to read both of your slices.

And for the final slice:

I spent my Easter Sunday at a Jewish deli, grocery shopping, and finishing up some freelance work. If I lived closer to home than Chicago, I would have been with the rest of my family, so was feeling a little left out of the action. Their plan was to drive and meet at a more or less convenient halfway point for everyone and have a big lunch.

I texted Clare asking for feedback on something I was working on and she responded, “Beautiful. Stunning. Amazing. Sorry can’t really talk, trying to deal with LC’s dead card.”

I immediately responded, “????????????????” and got radiosilence.

Dead card?? What on earth. LC’s my grandmother, and I would not call her close to death. Now, admittedly, I have not gotten a ton of sleep this weekend, so the places my brain decided to go weren’t necessarily founded in intelligence.

Dead card. Dead card. Did someone write her an Easter card? And say something about dying? Weird. Did LC get really into tarot cards recently and she just hasn’t told me about it? And maybe got the card of death? Unlikely. I was stumped.

I let it go, continuing on with my freelance work until my mom called me in another 20 minutes. “Hi! Just checking in! I’m driving home from the lunch alone because Clare has LC in the jeep after her car died. How are you?” she asked.

“Oh. My. God. CAR!!!!”

“Yes. Absolute nightmare. It’s dead dead. She’s going to use mine for the next couple days.”

I explained Clare’s text and we both had a laugh. Maybe on more hours of sleep I would have picked up on a potential typo… but this was almost better.

March 29 - Girlhood

A guy wasn’t very nice to my friend behind her back.

She is one of the sweetest, coolest, kindest human beings I have every met and deserves to be worshipped by any man who she deems even remotely worthy of her attention.

It wasn’t tricky to decide whether or not to tell her about it - she deserved to know - but it was tricky to actually tell her about it - she does not deserve this.

I ripped the bandaid off pretty early in the phone call and, at first, she couldn’t stop laughing. I’m sorry. He said WHAT?! We were, literally, both in disbelief.

Thirty minutes into us picking apart every little thing he had said and how foul and simply incorrect it all was, our other friend texted us a voice memo with her take on the whole thing. I put T on speaker phone and turned the volume all the way up on my computer so we could listen to M’s notes together without hanging up. Mhm. Yes. 100%. Wait yesssss. - was all said throughout.

After an hour and 20 minutes, I needed to blow dry my hair and vacuum my apartment - two things that are very hard to do while on the phone. We said our goodbyes and pretty much as soon as we hung up she texted me.

I was feeling kinda gross about the whole thing when you first told me, but now I’m like well that’s fine. It’s really crazy how talking things out makes you feel so much better.

March 28 - Human

There’s a trend that recently started flying around social media in an effort to humanize people. Influencers and others who have decided to join in on the fun will start off by saying ‘social media is a lie, so here are some things you should know’ and then follow it up with absurd tidbits about themselves.

So.

Blogging can be a way to showcase only the best parts of ourselves, so here are some things you should (well, not should, more like ‘are allowed to’) know about me.

Sometimes - only when I’m alone - I like to open mouth chomp on my food. Not with stuff like bread or chicken or rice. Gosh no. I’m talking about the crunchiest potato chip or pretzel or crouton. I hate it when other people chomp and chew with an open mouth, so I’m a total hypocrite, but wow it can feel and sound so satisfying.

I tend to anthropomorphize clothing. Part of it is because I’ll assign clothes sentimental value. I have one sweatshirt that I cannot get rid of, even though I rarely ever wear it anymore mostly because it’s starting to look a little threadbare, because it used to be the sweatshirt that I would wear to every yoga class when I first moved to Denver. It’s sentimental. Or my grandpa’s sweater that I managed to save from the donation pile after he passed. It’s losing shape but I absolutely cannot get rid of it. So, sure, part of it is for the memories. But a huge part of it is because I can’t bear the idea that if I donate a shirt, it might be the end of its life. Or, even worse, what if its next owner isn’t as kind and respectful as I am? The horror.

I absolutely despise taking out my recycling. It’s just so annoying. I never have it in me to shlep both a full bag of trash and my recycling bin out to the dumpster, which means it has to be two trips. And usually when I get back in from taking out the trash, I’m so impressed and satisfied with myself that I can’t make it back out there. It also doesn’t smell… which greatly minimizes the need for me to get rid of it. And finally, it’s sort of become a game. How much can I stack. How much can I break down and fit into one paper bag. Or one box. Truly, it’s insane of me and I do recognize that.

Last one for today - I am the queen of hyper-fixating. It can be with working out, habits in general, eating, clothing (you’re talkin to the girl that wore the same sweatshirt to yoga for about a year), music… you name it. I’m not picky. Currently my strongest hyper-fixation is, without a doubt, a toasted english muffin with cottage cheese, everything but the bagel seasoning, a drizzle of hot honey, and just a touch of some really good olive oil. I’ll switch it up a little when I have the necessary ingredients - add some avocado, top it off with some leftover grilled chicken, switch out the english muffin for sourdough. But I’m not kidding when I say I have had some variation of this for probably 30 days in a row.

Alright. That’s enough vulnerability for the moment. Hasta luego.

March 27 - Simulator

I’m finishing up a few last exports when I get a text from my friend Regan.

“I’m walking over right now!”

My eyes subconsciously perform a cartoon look around the room as I digest her text. Huh? Obviously we have plans to go to a golf simulator tonight, but not until 5:30pm. At least, that’s what I wrote down… and why I’m still sitting here working at 4:40. I have 50 minutes to get down there.

I pull up my calendar. Sure enough, I have a 5:30-7pm block.

I look through my texts with Regan and Ahana… and, lo and behold, I am completely wrong. The simulator is not 5:30-7pm, but instead 5-6:30pm. And I am at LEAST a 30 minute commute away.

Throwing in my airpods, I call Regan as I frantically shimmy out of my ‘work from home’ sweatpants and tear through my closet for a pair of comfortable-enough-to-swing-a-club-in jeans. “Regs,” I say, breathless as she picks up, “I am so sorry I don’t know how but I put the time down wrong. I’m putting on pants and running out the door. I’m gonna try to be there by 5:15, let’s hope a train is coming.”

She cracks up. “I actually just tracked your location and was like … hm. Larkin is still at home. Odd.”

“Yeah. Larkin is still at home is right.” I hang up with her and run out the door, checking my transit app to see when the next train’s arriving. 6 minutes. My god. Okay. That means I need to actually gently jog to make it to the stop in time.

Fortunately I hit every walk sign and work hard to not think about other peoples’ perceptions of me as I power-walk/ jog to the train in my jeans, sneaks and puffer jacket.

And I make it. With 2 minutes to spare.

I roll into the golf simulator at 5:11pm and no one can believe their eyes.

Ahana turns to Regan. “I thought you said she was gonna be late?”

“I am late!!!!” I sputter. “I’m 11 minutes late!”

Luckily for me, meeting your friends at a golf simulator at 5pm on a work day is a little less ‘on time is late’ and a little more ‘late is on time’.

March 26 - Freelance

Wooooooooo I need to take a freaking breath. This morning I was checking my bank statements (always a little spooky) and realized that for the first time ever I’ve done enough freelance work this month to cover all of my bills. Well, minus my mortgage. But that would be truly crazy. And this month hasn’t been casual on my credit cards… a couple doctor appointments and a car shop visit plus, ya know, life have added up.

I can be really really hard on myself sometimes. Am I making enough money? Am I hanging out with my friends enough? Is my work good enough? Am I sleeping enough? It can be tricky to decide what to prioritize when everything feels so unbelievably important.

I think next month I should probably move sleep up the list… but I’ve gotta say. I’m super proud of myself for this accomplishment.

March 25 - Lists

A couple things about me.

I’m bad at saying no. I’ve been incredibly underwater at work lately, which is (partially) my fault. I said yes to a bunch of freelance projects thinking that my Main Job was slow and then all of a sudden got slammo’d with a couple extremely time consuming tasks at said Main Job.

I’m also a big fan of lists. Huge fan. But slightly less of a fan when the lists seem to not be shrinking. I’ll cross one task off and then feedback comes through on another thing and boom it’s back on.

And, finally, I am a problem solver.

What to do when you’re extremely underwater but also a check-things-off-the-list addict? Glad you asked. You put everything on the list.

Today my list has consisted of:

• Prep for client meeting

• Take out the trash

• Client meeting

• Ink the drawings

• Clean the sink

• Hang up my clothes

• Freelance work for ____

• Start a load of laundry

• Freelance work for ____

• Grocery shop

• Fill up my water bottle/ stay hydrated

• Finish illustrations by Thurs

• Slice

• Shower

Not to brag… but it’s only 2:15pm and I’ve already taken care of over half my list. Productivity is simply in the eye of the beholder.

March 24 - Purdue

I didn’t slice yesterday so figured (just for my own competitive spirit) that I’d do 2 today. This one will be quick.

“I’m just checking in on my favorite sleepless daughter, did you finally get some rest last night?” My mom asks.

“No.” I grumble.

“Oh dear.”

“And freaking Purdue is winning. And I undercharged this person for this freelance project, this stuff is taking me 10x longer than I was expecting.” I can hear the whine in my voice and try to dial it back. “It’s going to turn out really well though, she’ll be happy with it.”

Mom laughs. “I’m sure she will. And who knows, maybe Purdue will have a terrible second half.”

Purdue did not, in fact, have a terrible second half. They played incredibly and have a spot secured in the Sweet 16. I really don’t have anything against them other than the fact that I picked them to win last year and they lost in the first round. Out of spite, I had them losing second round this year. And they pulled a fast one on me YET AGAIN.

Here’s to March Madness being madness and to me getting some sleep tonight.

March 24 - Gone

Some people lose keys. I - typically - do not. My keys have a very specific home.

Some people lose single socks. I - typically - do not. I used to before having an in-unit washer/dryer, but now that I do, I actually can’t remember the last time one of my socks lost their mate. It’s rare.

Some people lose pens. Again, I’m normally on top of my pens as well. I hyper-fixate on one or at a time and you can always either find my current pen obsession at my desk or on my coffee table. Not many places for me to lose a pen.

And some people lose their hair clips and hair ties. Not I. Similarly to pens, I go through phases. Currently, a black rubber-backed mini claw clip is either in my hair, around a finger, or clipped around my shirt hem. And I think I’ve been using the same elastic to work out in for the past few months. Living alone has its perks … no one to steal my hair ties (and yes, this is a subtle dig at me growing up with 3 sisters and a mother).

However.

Please, no one ask me where my ANY of my lip products are.

My apartment is not huge. There aren’t that many places for my brand new Summer Fridays lip gloss to hide. Yet it has now been MIA for the last three weeks. Three weeks ago, I might have been able to track my steps and figure out where I last had it. Key word might. Now? That thing is long gone. I will only again be graced by its presence when I finally relent and buy another one.

Until then, the Burts Bees chapstick that I just found in the pocket of my ski jacket (I haven’t skied in two seasons) while I was looking for cash (fortunately I did also find a 20) will have to do.

March 22 - Egos

I am SURE that I have written about this exact idea in past Marches, but it’s too near and dear to my heart today to not write one more post about.

A little bit of background is necessary for today’s topic. I am an art director, which essentially means that I come up with big ideas and make things pretty for a living. Campaign ideas, commercials, print ads, digital ads, you know. The works. If you’re really curious, feel free to check out the rest of my website.

Feedback in general can feel really personal. One of my old bosses put it best when she pulled myself and my copywriting partner aside after a particularly brutal client call and said, “Don’t worry. I get it. We’re all insane to have chosen this profession. Feedback doesn’t just feel like feedback when you’re a creative, it feels like a brutal attack on your freaking soul. You haven’t made a mistake because of a faulty equation or failed to make a sale. You’ve used your beautiful brains and your talented fingers to create these wonderful things and then a bunch of non-creative people decided that they didn’t like them. If the two of you want to take the rest of the day to mourn, that’s totally fine. Your creative children just got, and I don’t say this lightly, murdered.”

I had an internal call today meant to go over some ideas my partner and I had put together before our client presentation on Monday. For the most part, our concepts went over incredibly well. After all, these was our third attempt. One of our account leads, however, really hurt my fragile creative feelings.

“Well, we’re closer.” She began. “But we are not there yet. We need to fix…” And she proceeded to list off three INCREDIBLY fixable problems. 3. Out of a 70 slide presentation. And literally, people, we are talking sentence structure.

I immediately got a little warm.

It’s sort of like when you clean your room because your mom told you to and she comes in and says, Well, it’s better, but you clearly forgot to dust that one bookshelf.

Or when you’ve painstakingly planned out an entire dinner party and the guest you were most concerned about impressing says, Wait, is there no dessert?

I wrote down everything she said, implemented the feedback immediately after the call, and sent through the updated presentation link. But I might have also let myself get a little teary (if you remember, I also have not been sleeping very well which may have played a part here).

The ego is a fragile thing, especially when your work feels personal.

March 21 - Madness

Last year, I was a victim of Purdue losing the first round of March Madness. To what extent, you might ask? Oh. Well. I had them winning the entire tournament.

This meant that I essentially had about a 2% chance of winning the family bracket after round 1. And since Purdue had sabotaged me and my success, I spent all of last March Madness rooting for any and every underdog and just generally crossing my fingers for chaos.

This year, purely out of spite (and not at all because I actually know anything about the team), I have Purdue losing in the second round. Fool me once, Purdue.

Maybe this year I’ll have more to root for other than madness. Probably not, though. Stay tuned.