It's raining in LA / by vanessa

A couple of days ago I bought some Stumptown cold brew from the hole to use in a pinch when I didn't have my own cold brew already steeped in the fridge. This morning was that pinch, otherwise known as an 8 a.m. company wide google hangout in which I'd have to speak words recognizable by humans. In preparation, I poured some raw cream into my mug, then added the coffee, which turned out to be cold brew with milk, a distinction lost on me until I saw it streaming from the carton. I do not recommend cold brew with milk, and especially cold brew with milk with raw cream unless you have a thing for soupcoffee. Sigh.

Los Angeles is not the land of sunshine and lollipops. At least in June it's not. In Angeleno speak, this month is called "June Gloom," a nod to the fact that it is the most overcast month of the year. I develop SAD once a year, and now is it.  June Gloom colors the way we view most things--you would think that being in the middle of a drought we'd all be excited at even the hint of rain. But this time of year, the rain lightly drops on our city and it's like, why is life so hard. If you've ever had to drive in LA when there is even a hint of precipitation, you understand the sheer hopelessness. It is dire.

Maybe this has nothing to do with the bleak nature of the weather, but on my extended drive into the office today, I thought about how difficult this exercise has become. When I started out, I thought of writing 500 words a day as a fun exercise in storytelling. Surely I have 30 different, really humorous stories. This'll be fun. Turns out it's harder than I expected. I've heard all of my own stories (in my head) a million times before, and they're neither insightful nor entertaining. What can I say that hasn't been said?

But, I am nothing if not a pick-yourself-up-by-the-bootstraps kind of gal, so rather than throw in the towel, I decided today that going forward, I'm going to look for an opportunity every day to create the experiences that I would like to recount. I walked away from my pep talk for one newly invigorated!

And then I sat in traffic for a long enough period to not only crush my soul but crush my offspring's offspring's souls as well. The oppression is future generational. Suddenly, the tiny glimmer of hope I had mustered collapsed under the weight of an hour plus commute. I might be exaggerating only slightly.

Since then I've reset, and as I said I can't wait to take the remaining two weeks by the horns, and really write with purpose!

I'll get on that as soon as possible.

Like tomorrow. Probably.