Weeknotes: August 17–20, 2026
Monday, August 17
The Depot Town parking lot next to Frog Island is finally being resurfaced, a development decades overdue. I get my watch battery replaced at Olde Towne Coin & Gold, then drive west up Cross Street. On the sidewalk outside Sweetwaters, someone in a Totoro costume is hugging passersby.
At Petco, I buy another jar of expensive hip and joint supplements for Islay. She's been on them for a couple weeks and I haven't noticed any results — I hope they're not a racket. Through the glass window of the salon, I lock eyes with a ginger Akita being aggressively brushed by a groomer. Its expression is serene, almost curious — it's taking the abuse quite well.
After dinner, I spend a couple hours Door Dashing, trying to generate a bit of extra cash to stretch my paycheck. It's slow going, and when I finally return home, I notice the forgotten KFC lemonade in my cupholder. I consider driving the six miles back to my last delivery, but I just don't have it in me. I'm sorry, Jennifer H.
Weeknotes: April 14–18, 2025
Monday, April 14
Islay lifts her sweet face and peers over at me from her end of the couch. I lean over to hug her and she gives a few contented snorts before re-composing her limbs into an endearing tangle across her dog bed. I've promised myself I'll take her camping again this summer. It's been six or seven years since she slept in a tent and gave me the worst poison ivy rash I've ever had. We'll have to stay vigilant, but I want to make sure she gets more adventures outside our neighborhood. How many summers does a little dog have?
I ran my six mile route earlier in the day and it inspired a mood of supreme confidence and ambition which I haven't felt in a while. Those rare triumphal runs make all the ordinary everyday runs feel like part of a greater plan you knew you had in you all along. In my head I plotted out my next four marathons, one each month in a different city. I'll train harder for these races than I ever have before, all while going to school, working full-time, and recording a new project. What's more, I'll manage to shave 25 minutes off my PR and finally qualify for Boston. No problem. I carried this ambition back to my doorstep, inhaling the spring's first pollen, certain my strength of conviction would last.