“How’s work?” I muttered.

Robby sighed and looked down, swiveling in his chair so he could see me. I was lying on the floor, perfectly still.

“A little stressful,” he said.

“Bummer.”

“You really need to find something to do.” Continue reading

On the day my brother died, my brain alternated between slamming against the sides of my skull and hanging completely still, frozen at the foot of a grief I couldn’t understand. It’s been three weeks now. My parents returned from Stewart’s burial in Liberia yesterday. I’m by myself in a house in a city where I don’t know a soul. Continue reading

I asked several people to tell me the smartest thing they have ever done. I picked a random group: current friends, past friends, acquaintances, family, my parents’ friends, coworkers, strangers. Most people didn’t know the answer, which is part of why it’s an important question. Continue reading

A bag, a backpack, and a box were clustered on my floor, each brimming with clothes. I took inventory: seven dresses, three shirts, seven sweaters, a skirt, two swimsuits, a jumpsuit, two scarves, three bags, one pair of pants, one pair of shorts, and five pieces of jewelry. This was round one. Continue reading

I liked dogs as a kid; they were fun. But I didn’t adore them, and at no point in my teens or early twenties had I considered making the leap to adopt. Robby, meanwhile, had been fantasizing about dog ownership for over a decade. Shortly after we moved in together, he made it clear that he very much wanted a dog. I didn’t hate the idea, so we got Orion. Continue reading