So sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been doing too much, per usual, so I decided to take the day off to just rest and catch up on the things I’ve been neglecting. I’ve been writing a novel since September, and since the top of the year it’s been moving forward at a snail’s pace. I got hit by one new issue or new responsibility after another, and while I’ve been able to meet the moment and do what needs to be done, I am longing for just some time to myself.
But I’m also learning that if I want “it”, and “it” in this instance is rest, I have to grab it. No one is gonna give it to me, especially if they thrive off of my labor. The job isn’t gonna look at me and say, “Trina, you’re tired. Take the day off.” Whatever my daughter needs, she’s gonna ask for it, doesn’t matter if I’m trying to close my eyes at the moment. So, if I want or need rest for me, I gotta just take it, and not feel guilty about it.
But even in general, whatever I want is within my grasp. The question is always, am I willing to get it?
Today’s Story—
The things we do to cope. Sometimes life is just lifeing the fuck out of us, and we need to indulge and disassociate just enough so we can cope. So here is an ode to tacos, pizza sauce, and friends that get it.
“Heartbreak and heartburn are basically the same thing, right?”
by Katrina Mitchell
The waiter came out from the back, holding a large margherita pizza on a tray. He placed the pizza in front of me. He was silent when he delivered it but his eyes were judging me. I didn’t give a fuck.
He was new. He didn’t know how I did things here.
I was 24 hours out from my latest relationship catastrophically imploding, and this is how I nursed myself back to emotional health. Right, I know that it doesn’t actually work this way. But also, again, I don’t give a fuck.
I pulled out a slice and folded it lengthwise. I opened my mouth to take a bite, when my friend Theresa plopped down in the seat next to me.
“I knew I would find you here,” she smirked. “You had that ‘Jimmy’s Pizza’ sound in your voice.”
“Shut up, you don’t know me,” I smiled. I took a bite and was immediately transported to my happy place. Somewhere between the red sauce, fresh mozzarella, and basil, I found my solace and comfort.
“Mandy, I know you. Probably better than you know yourself.” Theresa laughed and took a slice. “You swear by this shit, but it ain’t that good.” She bit into it, then dropped the pizza on a paper plate. She twisted her lips as she chewed.
“Yeah girl, we can definitely do better than this.” She waved the waiter over. “Can I get the check?”
“I prepaid at the register,” I said.
“Oh, even better.” Theresa picked up her bag, then grabbed me by the wrist. “Come on.”
“No,” I resisted. “I wanna eat my pizza!”
“Uh-uh. You are an adult, and if you’re gonna eat your feelings, you will at least do it with better quality food.”
We walked out into the sunlight. I kept my eyelids low and leaned on Theresa as we walked.
“How much did you sleep last night?” she asked.
“Umm, I went to bed around midnight, then woke up at 2:30 and watched infomercials and played games until about 5. Then I went back to sleep, and got up at 6:30 to go to work. Then left work maybe an hour later cuz what the fuck was I thinking?”
“I hope you at least got some miracle spring water while you were up.”
“Nah, I just prayed over my blunt. It will do the same thing.”
Theresa snorted. “Right, right.”
We walked a few blocks and happened upon an upscale taqueria. We went in and found a table near a window.
“Tacos isn’t pizza,” I said, observing the room.
“Nope. It’s better.” Theresa smiled. “Just let me order for you okay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t order me no squid or nothing crazy like that.”
Theresa motioned for the waiter, then placed the order. Then, she turned to me and just stared. I took a sip from my straw and tried to look away. When I turned back, it was like her eyes were boring holes into my skull.
“What?” I laughed, trying to play it off.
“I’m just waiting on you to…”
“I’m fine. Really.” She didn’t believe me. “Really!” I exclaimed.
“So, you’re just going to eat and drink and pretend that you’re okay?”
“No,” I replied. “I’m going to eat and drink and accept what is and move on with my life. Besides, heartbreak and heartburn are basically the same things, right?”
“Hmm,” Theresa said.
“You really didn’t need to save me. And I’m gonna go back for my pizza tomorrow.”
