This week was a parade of what I like to call “ugly days.” Because well, I had my period and didn’t feel like looking human. And naturally that’s when the universe decides it’s social hour. Because of course the one time I throw on mismatched clothes, rock five-day-old hair, and dash out the door like a feral cat to pick up my daughter, that’s exactly when I bump into someone I know. Looking radiant, obviously.
Just a few days earlier, I had to drop my son off at a playdate—though can we still call it a playdate when they're 13? Feels a little toddler-adjacent, but I digress.
I went so far as to park strategically behind a tree, hoping to hide from the parents but of course, the dad came out to the car to say hi—like a perfectly normal, friendly human being. Meanwhile, I’m slowly rolling down the window like a raccoon caught raiding the garbage.
If that was you and you read this newsletter, please know I wasn’t being rude. I was just wildly self-conscious about how I looked and wanted to disappear into the floor.
I could’ve gone the rest of my life without knowing this information.
I shared this a year ago, but I’ve been thinking a lot about it lately so wanted to share it again:
It’s from a thread on Instagram, direct tweets linked here, and it was so powerful I was sobbing. I can imagine many of you need to hear this too:
(I'm copying it exactly as it was written)
"Several years ago, a neighbor kid kicked a football and shattered a small basement window. We were a family of six living on a teacher's salary at the time, so I boarded it up thinking I'd get to it someday. The frame was rusted shut. I couldn't fix it.
Over the years, I'd sometimes get estimates from window companies. Of course, the plan was to upgrade to energy-efficient windows for the whole house. $15,000. It was simply out of reach. In the meantime, the boarded windows let in bugs, but not light. One contractor explained that the location of the window, with the frame embedded in the foundation, meant that whoever replaced it would need to chisel it out by hand, a labor-intensive and expensive process. And there were six of those windows in the house.
Honestly, the thought of that window ate at me for years. Every time I went down there, every time I went to the hardware store, it nagged at me. I knew I needed to address it, but I had built up the process (and the price) so much in my mind that I was paralyzed. Then my wife had a job change, and we needed to move. I knew that a potential buyer couldn't get an FHA loan on the property if there was a broken window. So I pulled off the boards and cardboard to face this thing head-on. It had been at least 5 years. I thought, 'What the heck. I'm gonna have to pay for it anyway.' I grabbed some WD-40, sprayed all around the rusted frame, and gave it a tug. To my astonishment, it moved for the first time in decades. I pulled the window out and took it downtown. It was $12 to fix. I could have fixed the problem for $12 the same day it happened. But l let it haunt me for years, shutting out the light and letting in the bugs. And I finally fixed it for somebody else when the house was empty. It didn't need to be the most efficient. It just needed to be a window.
OK, this isn't really about my window. I mean, the story is true. But it's also a decent parable. Many of us, especially those with ADHD, anxiety, or depression, tend to live with broken windows of one type or another for years. Everybody's broken windows are different. They are things that seriously affect our quality of life, and we know they need work, but the actions to address them seem too daunting. I've still got plenty of them myself. If you recognize yours, a few things to know:
-An imperfect solution now is better than a perfect solution that will never happen.
-Doing the thing is often less painful than thinking about doing the thing.
-Acknowledging how the problem is affecting you can reduce it's power over you.
-Don't blame yourself for dwelling on your broken windows. Just enjoy the light when you fix one.
-There are some windows you can't fix by yourself. Find the right help for the right window.
-You don't have to fix it all now. Just start by starting."
Oufffff. So powerful.
(In order from left to right)
The Perfect Murder: I haven’t seen this in years and it was just as good as it was when I saw it the first time. If you haven’t seen this it’s a great thriller.
Wild Eyes: This was a light read. A famous singer meets a dad in a small town. I didn’t think it was as amazing as all the hype but I definitely thought it was cute and I related to the main character.
After 41 years on this planet, I’ve met a pretty wild mix of characters. I’ve grown to learn that we’re all wired differently, shaped by our unique life stories and weird quirks. So I get it. We’re not clones, and it’s unrealistic to expect everyone to march to my own drumbeat.
HOWEEVVVERRRR…
does a dramatic swivel in my chair
Does the same go for basic manners? More importantly, is there a universal understanding of what manners really are? Because, sure, most of us probably think of things like holding a fork the “right” way or saying please and thank you. But I’m personally less interested in your table etiquette than I am your