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: January 6–10, 2025
Monday January 6
Outside the giant home decor superstore shreds of yellow caution tape flap like pennants, suggesting unknown drama. Scant cars punctuate the desolate parking lot. Grim is the word that comes to mind. In Chris Frantz's Talking Heads memoir (which I've stuck with, and am now enjoying) he recalls how Johnny Ramone used that word over and over to describe their shared 1977 tour of Europe ("Oh shit, man, this is gonna be grim").
I don't go to this store very often. It's one of those wastelands of excess that makes me feel edgy and cynical. It's like a blander Pier 1 without any curation, a shelter for the world’s decorative vases and wicker plant stands to live out their days in a heady fug of candle store aroma. I'm in the market for new bathroom rugs that will pair well with the tricky seafoam walls and faux driftwood floor covering I inherited when I rented the house. Last winter I spontaneously bought a complete set of grass green rugs and matching towels which I pretended to like for a couple days before recognizing I'd turned my bathroom into a 1980s Holiday Inn. January is when I'm most inclined to tackle these problems. Aren't we all working on our interiors this time of year?