Have I ever told you my theory about good days? I enjoy them. I don’t think about the fact that it can turn on a dime. I don’t worry about “jinxing” myself. I don’t do that whole thing where I keep it to myself because someone else might be having a terrible day or get wrapped up in shame that my good day is a sign of my enormous privilege.
I have a lot of terrible days, and I deserve to enjoy the good days. And worrying that a bad day is coming next doesn’t keep the bad day from coming; it just ruins my good day. Then every day is a bad day, and no one can go on that way.
Last week sucked.
I am determined that this week is going to be better.
I’ve taken enough ChairmanMe courses to know that 99% of this is within my control and power. I need to get in a better mindset.
I took the weekend to revel in so many things I love. Friends, sunny San Francisco, running, cooking, delicious food, and of course, my family.
I have so many things that are wonderful in my life. Usually that’s enough to keep me going through far harder times than these. But it’s like the gas and the reserve are just so depleted in the Pollyanna tank.
How are you?
In my corner coming up on year three of the pandemic, it feels really dark. I feel like I shouldn’t show up for Zooms because I don’t have anything upbeat to share.
It’s the first time in my adult life that I can remember feeling…nihilistic.
Adimika said it was like being on a hamster wheel. I feel like that’s how life felt before. But you know what? I was getting exercise and I had a great playlist.
Catherine remarked that it was more like Sisyphus, and that’s very much it. I am a problem solver and an optimist by nature. And I feel worn down. I feel like every solution, new idea, fresh spin, creative way to make life a little more magical is now just blowing up in my face and making everything worse.
In our “Women’s Work” course, Catherine challenged us to identify what kind of “witch” we are. Like, a “hedge witch” or a “green witch” or a “hearth witch” (Is that one a thing?). Cathy Brooks is definitely a pet witch.
Mine was easy: I’ve become a hydration witch.
I have never been into hydration, and I’m still terrible about drinking enough water. But a few months of desert living convinced me that a lot had to change when it came to my skin. I don’t think I even used a daily moisturizer before. Now I have a whole caldron of options.
Doesn’t it feel like everything has been in retrograde for the last few years?
Maybe you need a “this stage in the multi-year pandemic” assist?
Tonight we are hosting a free Zoom event about solving DINNER. Have you noticed that “solving dinner” was one of the most over-invested categories in the last wave of Silicon Valley — billions and billions of dollars in capital, mostly going to alpha bros who were going to solve dinner.
Pop quiz: Do you know what you’re having for dinner tonight? More than 80% of people don’t on any given day.
So, let’s talk about money.
Here’s what Sallie Krawcheck – one of the most accomplished women in finance who still gets mansplained by VCs – recently told me about women and money: “I love men. I’ve been married to a couple of them…but if they had 200 years ago decided to keep women from having full power, they would have given us toxic messages around money. They would have taught us we were risk-averse. They would have taught us we’re no good with money. They would have taught us that we’re spendthrifts. They would have taught us it’s too many Manola Blahniks…those messages.”
Somehow Eli and Evie have $300. It’s a combination of an overly generous Tooth Fairy (in the form of a grandpa), various birthdays and holidays, and their pandemic swear jar.
It’s a pretty staggering sum of money for two kids. And I was thinking about whether I should go take them to the bank to open an account or make it some sort of teachable money moment.
Meantime, I’m working on round two of our new and improved Boss Up Your Finances course. I was doing an interview with Sallie Krawcheck about how investing is a vital FEMINIST ISSUE. And how the WEALTH GAP makes the salary gap look downright fair. (Black women have A PENNY of wealth for every dollar a white man has! A PENNY!!)
Newsletter editor Lily here.
Welp, it hit me: I’m in a “yet another depressing winter in a pandemic” funk. I haven’t gotten Omicron to date, but considering that probably 70% of people I know have in the past month and a half, it feels like this awful inevitability just creeping up on me.
I had and still have a lot of plans for 2022, but I’ve had to admit that they’ve needed to shift a little bit. For example, I’m not going to the gym for the time being given outbreaks. This is, of course, coinciding with New York City having one of the coldest winters in the last three years, and training for my marathon in 12-degree weather isn’t what I had in mind. It’s a bummer, but I’m making it work.
In my COVID isolation, the sun came way, way out in Palm Springs, and I spent two weekend mornings with Radish in my yard fully soaking up all the vitamin D on offer reading the recent autobiography of Haley Mills.
As a kid of the 1970s, I just absolutely love Haley Mills. She feels like my childhood as much as Burl Ives’ voice feels like Christmas. (Maybe not a surprise the underrated Summer Magic is one of my favorite Haley Mills movies?)
I love her voice so much. I love that her singing voice wasn’t perfect, but she still sang in every movie. I love that her skin wasn’t perfect, her nose wasn’t perfect, her teeth weren’t perfect, but somehow she was so perfect I wanted to be her. Her imperfection gave me confidence to also not be perfect. I thought she was so effortlessly elegant (even when she was being clumsy or making a face) and awesome.
We are back to homeschooling. By choice, as I wrote about in yesterday’s newsletter, because I’m not a fan of the “Oh well, let’s just all get COVID! It’s mild!” new mindset sweeping a lot of California.
Monday held the normal amount of first-day-back-at-remote-learning chaos. Figuring out logins. Nothing working right the first time. Trying this computer instead. Then there were morning meetings and alllll the meals. And more “Where are you supposed to be?”
By around 1pm, the kids were mostly done, and I grabbed my laptop and went to hide in my room to power through my long to-do list. At one point, Evie came in and asked if she could just hug me while I worked. “Two weeks is a long time to be away from your mom,” she said sweetly.