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be glad we can’t talk in person yet

blah blah blah blah blah I started wearing a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) about a month ago, mostly because my health insurance started covering continuous glucose monitors this year. For a type 2 diabetic, it can be like taking a light saber to a knife fight. But “eat to your meter” is a big thing in the T2D world, and a CGM makes that much easier. Instead of having to find somewhere to wash my hands and accidentally dumping a bunch of test strips on the floor and hunting for a napkin when I fingerstick too hard and bleed all over the place, I just look at my phone because it talks to the Bluetooth sensor on my belly about once every five minutes, 24/7.

I also started taking one of the T2D medications for which you’ve seen some deeply annoying commercials. It’s currently going through the process of FDA approval as a weight loss drug. (All you need to do in order to understand that obesity is complex is to read about this drug’s mechanism of action, but of course it’s more fun to just keep judging!) In my case, it works very well for the approved usage, and I don’t know about the as-yet-to-be-approved one. You can decide for yourself when we meet again, if you care.

From all of this I’ve learned that I have hypoglycemia unawareness, which is not scary and very scary at the same time. I find out my blood sugar is dangerously low only because my phone starts freaking out, at a volume slightly lower than Amber Alerts. I’m never sweaty or hungry or dizzy, like most people get. Fortunately, it’s largely within my control to make sure hypo doesn’t happen — but it’s also a question of working out how to balance the various tools in my arsenal against the hyperglycemia, which I’m also not usually aware of until my phone tells me blah blah blah blah blah

So. Much. Bandwidth.

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Pandemic Jukebox

Well, well, well…

Not a huge jump to make, but I’m still going to pretend I’m a music producer for the rest of the day.

By the way, for years I’ve kept up a Spotify playlist of very fast music because workout playlists are always too slow to keep me interested. Here it is:

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Pandemic Jukebox

You’re gonna love this

I prefer this version because there’s a bland hallway involved.

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Pandemic Jukebox

It’s getting worse every year

I do not see what the problem is here.

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Pandemic Jukebox Shut up, Erin

how it’s been, how it’s going

I sent out some flash fiction last year (scroll down on the Writing page for two examples!) but I mostly worked on and sent out memoir. 2019 was a really bad year for me, and I took a lot of notes while it was going on. I tried doing some things with it all, and the response was universally: ugh, no thanks.

After years of wrestling with memoir overall, it was hard not to see that as a sign. So, we’re done. It’s cool.

It turned out there was a novel waiting for me. I’m well aware that novels are gambles in ways that shorter prose isn’t. In the last six years I’ve written two novels and set both of them aside. One I might get back to someday but the other one, I had to perform an exorcism. (Not joking, happy to send instructions on request.)

The one constant when I’m working on long fiction is that it’s always a little like The Talisman — there’s this world, there’s the world that the story lives in, and there are threads back and forth between them as we all move forward.

It has nothing to do with autobiography. It’s more like being on a field trip to Colonial Williamsburg, and your social studies teacher just said something kinda mean because she’s tired, and it affects what you think of and remember about the blacksmithing demonstration.

I know where the story is going. But some of the stuff in between, I’ve been avoiding. Or, to keep going with the analogy: I know I have to watch the blacksmithing demonstration, but I also have to wait for the social studies teacher to say something.

Some people hate the editing, but I hate the waiting. It’s hard to tell the difference between waiting and thinking and procrastinating. Meanwhile nothing is good enough for anyone else to read, and I’m just going to say it — there are no social media pellets when you’re in a long wager…or a long con.

That said: my favorite part, by far, is the magic. The song stuck in my head for the last two days has lyrics that are relevant. Someone says something in a chat box and it’s directly relevant to a section I’m going to take a shot at getting down on paper in the morning. I draw a tarot card (because that’s my Quarantine Hobby) and it’s Judgement reversed and I know exactly what that means and I laugh my ass off. A new title bounces into my head and it affects every damn thing I’ve done so far, and probably some other stuff I’m going to catch on the next draft. All of it.

It can be lonely, sure, but a fair amount of the time? It’s cool.

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Pandemic Jukebox

we all have doubts

The BRIDGE on this!

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Pandemic Jukebox

walkin’

This video…

…reminded me of this video…

…except they’re different.

(While looking for Bitter Sweet Symphony, I discovered there’s a super deluxe 20th anniversary edition of the Urban Hymns LP with sixty tracks. Meanwhile, the super deluxe version of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours only has fifty-eight tracks.)

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Shut up, Erin

I might post here more

I’ve been thinking about two things, just about simultaneously, all day. Here’s the first one:

And here’s the second one, (which I guess technically is the first one, because I clipped it months ago) from Sari Solden’s book A Radical Guide for Women with ADHD:

The only conclusion I’ve come to (so far) is that “fear” in Patricia Lockwood’s tweet is not necessarily the same as “unfamiliarity” in Solden’s passage — and it’s much too easy to think that they are.

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Pandemic Jukebox

mashup

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Pandemic Jukebox

Na na na na

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Pandemic Jukebox

don’t you look back

It took me way too long to find a version of this video where I can hear the USC marching band.

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Pandemic Jukebox

sometimes I get down

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Pandemic Jukebox

welcome to paradise

There are worse things to do with life than watch a few Avalanches music videos.