the spring is coming

february 27, 2025

i’m still apartment hunting and i’m tired. this journey i’m on, has me tired in all categories, mentally? tired. emotionally? tired. physically? be so entirely for real, tired. spiritually? mmhmm yupyupyup, tired. but when you’re this tired you know the story, is just about to get good.

i got the stomach flu last week. mind you, i don’t throw up. the last time i threw up was middle school, while i was menstruating and i remember having a very short conversation with my body, “we’re not doing this again.” and she said, “aight, i got you” and since then i’ve never thrown up…until this weekend. apparently it’s going around and the birds are sick?? but that’s no excuse. or is it?

the spring is coming.

i gua sha my face before bed now. begin my writing practice first thing in the morning and sprinkle my day with little cute things that help me feel grounded and alive and less like i’m still in the middle of this massive turtle and the hare slow ass transition of packing up my life and moving.

i spent all winter planting seeds of development and trust within myself and the spring is coming and those seeds, they are starting to bloom.

i looked around at my life this week and laughed at how it’s a perfect tortured writer aesthetic. living in a hotel, recovering from the stomach flu, starting my life over, no friends in town, need i go on? nothing to do all day but doordash and write wistful poetry in between deliveries…there is someone in LA right now trying to replicate these exact conditions to gain inspiration for their next movie or tv show and here i get to live it, for free.

so i wake up every morning and i write, because that’s what i do in my new apartment. i wake up, slide into my slippers, pet and cuddle my cat named winnie the pooh. open the curtains to the morning sun winking in my living room. turn the kettle on for some peppermint tea and settle at my computer to write. i write what i dreamed about that night, my plans for the day. i edit the weekly post for refined ink, maybe a little poetry, and oh? the kettle is done and it’s breakfast time for winnie.

the spring is coming.

and because she’s coming, i am eager. eager for the blooms both outside and within myself because i did not drive seventeen hours and sleep in my car for almost three weeks to half ass anymore of this dream that i want so dearly. i am doubling down on all of it. doubling down on me, betting on myself, trusting not just in the universe and everything that i’ve spent the better part of three years manifesting but i’m trusting myself, (and that’s really big) that i will continue to make the choices that will get me there. trusting those choices and my actions, because i was always capable of realizing these dreams myself.

there is a tribe of women who have been supporting me and loving me, checking in with me and truly witnessing all of this growth and unfolding. they know who they are and thank you, will never be enough.

what i’ve been listening to this week, until next time, m. <iframe data-testid="embed-iframe" style="border-radius:12px" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/track/25iPLrlogdTHS9ZYnUEtxw?utm_source=generator" width="100%" height="352" frameBorder="0" allowfullscreen="" allow="autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; fullscreen; picture-in-picture" loading="lazy"></iframe>