Like many people, I'd heard the chatter about COVID-19. The media was doing its thing by raising this issue to fear-mongering levels, so it made it easy not to tune in.
Until I did.
The first week of March, the company that I currently temp for offered a WFH option; I took it. By the second week, it had become mandatory. I knew my parents were part of the susceptible age group (they're both in their late 70's) and had no idea how this virus would affect our family.
Until it did.
I just want to say that I am not a medical professional. The opinions expressed in this post are purely one hundred percent my own and should be read as such. What works for me may not, or will not, work for you.
Have you imagined how you would react if you ever met someone famous? Do you think you'd be the epitome of Calm Cool Collected? Or would you freak out?
When I was going through my divorce, I lived with my parents for three months to save money. During my time with them, I came to a startling realization:
My parents eat like crap.
I read a lot and I read quickly + short, but quick snapshot of my thoughts = Book Shorts. Wet Panty Rating is based on the hawtness of Sexy Times. Yes, I'm serious. This blog post contains affiliate links*.
Oh, to be young again.
When I used a wet washcloth to wash my face, cleansed my body with a bar of Dove, knocked out ashiness with that big yellow bottle of Vaseline lotion, and Mom got my hair clean with Cream of Nature shampoo. I feel a Lauryn Hill song coming on. LOL
At the end of February, I attended the Desert Nights, Rising Stars Literary Fair hosted by ASU's Virginia G. Piper Creative Writing Center. It was part of the annual Desert Nights, Rising Stars Writer's Conference, held on the Arizona State University campus. The literary part of the fair got rained out, so this portion of the conference was held inside the Virginia G. Piper Writers House.
Black goddess musings on life and becoming a sustainably-conscious human being.