Epiphanies, Volume I

• No one looks cool at the top of an escalator.

• Escalators in and of themselves are kind of crazy to think about. (Side note: There is only one escalator in the entire U.P. I take four on my way to work each day.)

• I chose a career that is deadline-centric. I also have raging anxiety about being late to anything. What the hell was I thinking?

• Sometimes being single is incredibly daunting. Like, for instance, when you head to the hardware store to seek out items that will ensure that a rat will not enter your apartment through the spot that it has been furiously chewing at under your cupboards for the past three nights, and that, if it does chew through, it will die without the mechanism of its death killing your beloved dog. Like, that, for instance. But a peptalk from Dad and a conversation with a teenage Menards clerk later, you'll feel really, really empowered. Especially after you spray the hell out of the spot with foam insulation and find a no-see, no-touch, no-kill-the-dog rat trap. Take that, Melvin. (That's me and Henley's nickname for the rat.)

• One peptalk from Dad, and I could probably handle anything.

• No matter how stressful life gets, it always give you reasons to smile. I've been playing a game on my way to work called 20 Reasons to Smile, where, you probably guessed it, I actively find things that make me happy. On my way to work today, I saw a woman wearing duck slippers, a boy flirting with a girl twice his age, and a fifty-something guy with Justin Beiber blaring from his earbuds. Life is really, really funny.

• Saying it > Saying it with a shaky voice > Saying it in tears > Not saying it

• Sometimes pasta with spaghetti sauce is the perfect dinner five nights in a row. (Trader Joes, maker of the best brown rice pasta I've ever tasted, is the best store ever on earth. Ever.)