#4: Debacles are Our Favorite Memories

Why I finally opened a $160 bottle of perfume, and how a (literal) shitty mistake made me happy.

I want to start this newsletter off by acknowledging the current devastation happening in this Israel-Hamas war. My heart and mind are with all of the Jewish and Palestinian people around the world, wishing for peace and an end to this horrific violence. Like many of us, I am doing my best to educate myself and better understand this historical conflict, both by research and private conversations. Some resources I’ve found helpful are this older episode of The Daily podcast, as well as the two recent episodes, linked here and here. I’m also following live updates from the war here.

Jessica Yellin

also shared a resource-filled breakdown in her most recent newsletter.

I decided to share a bit more light-hearted of a story today, alongside the usual Weekly REPORT. If this newsletter feels like a welcome mental break or distraction from the news scrolling and heaviness, I hope this story provides some lightness and laughs— if it doesn’t sit right with you to read about other topics right now, feel free to set this aside for the time being. Sending much love to everyone struggling right now.

You know those days that feel like you’re playing this endless game of whack-a-mole?

Tuesday was one of those days. But first, let’s take it back to Monday, when I had my long-awaited consult with an Endo surgeon that I had fought to get an appointment with after being placed 96th on his waiting list (for a CONSULT). I’ll get more into that when I’m ready, but for now, I’ll just say that it felt a little like the opening of Pandora’s box. While feeling catatonic post-appointment and wanting to be productive without having to be mentally taxed too much, I did a big closet clean out. I threw the bags of donations into our car to be ready to be dropped off at any moment, and patted myself on the back for thinking ahead.

While mentally distracted with scary Endo surgery things I found in my internet Reddit hole and the terrible world happenings, I headed into Tuesday. We had our couples therapy session, drove to a different area to entice Benny to take a long walk (he needs more exercise, but he’s my worst training client, ever), then I spent most of the day simultaneously researching Endo surgery things and working. I found out my one friend I knew going to the work event that night wasn’t coming anymore, conjuring an introvert’s worst nightmare, then I attempted to dress myself cool enough to blend in with all the trendy Gen Z lifestyle influencers I’d see at that night’s event.

While getting ready, I monitored Google Maps projected commute time, which ticked up before my eyes (gotta love LA), so I whittled down my pre-event errands to just the one: dropping off clothes at the donation center en route. I was attempting to style my overgrown bangs to not look like a giant cowlick, when I was surprised by a call from my doctor’s surgical coordinator, who I was told not to expect a call from for at least a week. She was calling to schedule my surgery, and offered up dates to choose from, as casually as a sweetgreen employee would ask if I’d like my salad dressing light, medium, or heavy. As my brain weighed which date might potentially be more optimal to be sliced into like a hunk of deli meat, my hair decided cowlick was indeed the preferred look. I panic-chose a date, only to frantically call her back later with a different date, after talking to J and thinking on logistics more. I was running late at this point, so I kissed Benny on his head before running out the door to hop in my car and zoom off.

Except I didn’t. When I flung open the car door, my nostrils were absolutely annihilated with the smell of literal shit. Eyes watering, I shoved my head into the sweltering sauna of a car to figure out the source of the smell. I then spotted the dog poop bag on the floor, which we both somehow forgot to take out of the car with us to throw out after Benny’s morning walk.