A special snowflake

The gang I work with has started hosting weekly virtual tea times as a way to socialize.

I have a reputation for being socially averse, so I decided to join as a step toward reversing that perception. Virtual gatherings are perfect for introverts because it’s a simple click of the mouse to be free from small talk – sorry, my connection dropped! Also, you can wear your pajamas which, introvert or not, is pretty awesome.

Everyone began discussing bread baking and the intricate and healthy meals they’ve made from scratch featuring ingredients I’d never heard of. I, meanwhile, have baked nothing, not so much as a bag of microwave popcorn (baking snobs, please don’t fill my feed with comments arguing this is not actually baking), and until recently thought quinoa was pronounced kwi-noah.

I decided I should be baking too, but hand-to-god I Googled “recipes that start with cake mix” because that’s as from-scratch as I get. I did find some awesome cake mix chocolate chip cookies, but like any true artist, I added it to my “artisan baking” Pinterest board for further contemplation. Art will not be rushed.

Watch this space for further quarantine tips and tricks, including step by step instructions for my eco-friendly strategy of using the same coffee mug for a week straight.

With love and a touch of madness. -Leah

Claiming my truth

Part of this whole being a writer thing is claiming my truth. I’m off to a slow start.

I drink my coffee in a way that can be best described as having some coffee with my cream. It’s such a light color when I’m finished that my daughter once thought it was white wine in my mug. This wouldn’t even be worth relaying where it not for the fact that I am a recovering alcoholic and white wine in a mug (so sneaky!) was my jam. For a moment my daughter thought the quarantine had bested me.

But, back to my profound truth. In a continued effort to lose weight without having to, ya know, exercise, I decided today to give up cream in my coffee. To rise above, take a stand, make a change, take my life back from the scourge of vanilla creamer.

I lasted 1/2 mug before admitting defeat to my husband and making the “I wouldn’t ask you to go to the store for something trivial, but this is important” face. Mercifully, we are early enough into our marriage that this worked, although I’m aware I’m living on borrowed time there.

Writing is meant to be restorative, cleansing, bracingly honest. Today I take the first brave step and announce I do not like my coffee black.

Watch this space for further writerly truths. I must say I feel stronger already. Feel free to leave your own truth in the comments – you’ll feel better, I promise you.