Living in the Moment

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

Life is so weird and fast and fake feeling, like a movie playing in reverse. One minute you’re climbing on monkey bars and learning to tie your shoes and the next you’re folding laundry and wondering how you got so wrinkly and the next, well, you may as well be at a retirement home. I don’t remember a ton about my childhood, probably because I’d live almost exclusively in my brain if I could. But I do remember baking apple crisp with my grandmother on rainy summer afternoons. Her apple tree produced the smallest, sourest apples and the only proper thing to do with them was to bake them into something sweet. Life is kind of like that too, it can turn sour and end sweet or vice versa, except sometimes you don’t even realize it’s sour until you’re out of it and then you think, “Thank God I didn’t understand how hard that would have been at the beginning.”

I like doing laundry and it feels weird to admit that, like I’m shunning some sort of adult code that we all agree to live by but never talk about. We hate doing laundry and dishes but we love staring into our phones and drinking ourselves to death and making jokes about how old we’re all getting. If I was a kid, I would roll my eyes at my grown self, because kids don’t know any better than to be selfishly in the moment. They are disgusted by adults because we are disgusting. Kids…