This Body is Bullshit

I had breakfast with my cousin Greg this weekend, which is basically a miracle because the only time I usually see him is at funerals or weddings. He grew up on the East Coast and lives in Florida now. His dad — my mom’s brother — drowned when I was in junior high. It happened in Hawaii. My aunt Becky, my grandma, and Greg as a newborn were all on the beach when it happened. I’ll never forget it. Greg looks so much like his dad that it still catches me off guard every time I see him.

Twelve years between us, but that never mattered. He’s always been easy to talk to — open, no bullshit, no awkwardness. He seems to be in a good place now, basically a great stepdad, kind of like Matt. He’s a fucking catch and I just want to make sure the woman in his life knows that. Really knows it. He’s sweet and hardworking and kind, and he deserves someone who sees all of that and doesn’t take a single bit of it for granted. That’s all I want for him.

On the way home I stopped at the Starbucks where Maggie was working. She spreads herself so thin but she looked good — better than the last time. Sweet as always. Honestly she was probably checking on me as much as I was checking on her. We spotted a bald eagle mid-conversation, which completely derailed me because I cannot function when there’s wildlife nearby. I’m out there craning my neck like I’m on safari while she’s trying to have an actual conversation. Fittingly, we may have been talking about ADHD at the time.

Then I got home and realized I’d missed my cousin Bryon’s birthday. He’s one of my favorites on my stepdad’s side and he is always — always — so thoughtful about those things. Meanwhile I just forgot his entirely. Classic. I feel terrible. Hopefully I’ll see him next weekend with his new wife Laura, who is just lovely, and we can celebrate him properly. Ken’s supposed to be in town too, so fingers crossed for a real gathering.

Last night was our block party. There was a collective side-eye going in — everyone quietly wondering if our neighbor with the ongoing mental health situation might show up and make things interesting. She and her husband didn’t come. And honestly, thank God, because the turnout was the biggest we’ve had in four years. People stayed until 10. I bailed at 7:30 because my social stamina outside my inner circle is genuinely embarrassing. Still — nice to see familiar faces, meet a couple new ones. I missed Carol and Vito though. It wasn’t the same without them.

This morning I snagged a last-minute Pilates spot off the waitlist and it made my entire day. Got some meal prep done after, cleaned out a couple cabinets, and now I’m lying in the hammock. I wish I could do this so much more. I truly do not understand people who go nonstop all weekend. My weekends are the only time I have for errands and chores since I don’t get work from home days, so downtime has to be intentional or it just disappears. I’m working on that.

I did some catching up with people too. Briefly talked to Natalie, had a nice call with my Aunt June — who is starting to remind me more and more of my grandma, which is both sweet and a little heartbreaking — and a long, really good conversation with Aunt Susie on Friday while I was home with Frank after his procedure. Poor guy was completely wrecked from the anesthesia for two and a half days, but he’s finally back to his pompous little self.

Susie though. She’s the glue. She keeps everyone connected, carries more than her share, and still makes time to check in on everybody else. She’s a beacon. She also might be my biggest blog fan — she makes me feel good about writing this even when I’m not sure I should be, and I have a feeling she’s shared it with more people than I realize. So if you’re new here, hi. This is therapy. It’s messy and honest and I try not to let it turn into a full pity party, but no promises.

Aunt Susie and Uncle Brad joined Greg and me for breakfast too, which made it even better.

Now it’s Sunday night. The Scaries are creeping in right on schedule. Tomorrow will probably be another one of those Mondays where I need a crane to get out of bed. I want to get back to walking this week, keep the Pilates going, try to feel like a functioning human.

But for now — hammock. And the seventy TikToks Grace has sent me that I still haven’t watched.