Hi Stacey

Hi Stacey–

Nothing in particular to write about today.

An AI pop-up just greeted me, Stacey. That’s never happened here before. A little IM bubble, so pleasing to me–an AIM millennial girlie.

It asked something basic, like if it could help me. I asked how it/they/you was/are. Then the bot seemed to vanish, leaving an option to evaluate the experience. That could have been a bid to connect further, but more likely the bot is not advanced enough for little games, like someone asking how the bot is doing, generally.

I had a slow start. Not exceedingly so, but loafish. Still did my Taylor Swift workout, got myself together, made it to an old haunt around 9. I got a latte and bostock. Then, because I’m a bit older and wiser now, I also ordered a little plate of two eggs over medium and a side of avocado.

I tackled an award application for Fringe, a few production emails, managing my August schedule between shows and guests and press and shows and production meetings stateside. I felt my greasiness greasing each passing hour. I finished my must-dos right at my deadline, 2 pm. Krichelle kept me company for some of my work burst. She’s grieving right now but still took some time to ask how I’ve been. She reassured me, I’m a good and lovable person.

At home Dern and I chatted and I found our snail has escaped the aquarium. I tenderly worked her shell until she finally let go, and I placed her back inside, on a branch.

I went to the pool for hours. Some other gals were there, we all woke up in the middle of the night last night. They left. I listened to a lot of Sabrina Carpenter. I didn’t read. I didn’t write. I looked at the sky and the palm trees. I got in to my hips then out.

I had some brie and rosemary crackers, half an apple and a couple chocolates. I’m about to take a shower then eat more, maybe watch that Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders show. There’s nothing interesting about this update, I fear.

What’s tough and good about this project, Stacey, is I kinda genuinely think no one reads this blog. I’ve only heard someone mention they found it semi-passing a few times, and then never again. It’s probably important for my voice to have a place I am trying to be authentic. I mean, what else would I be doing if it’s just you and me here alone? The threat of not being alone though…that’s significant. As though we couldn’t meet alone… Only a hunch.

What’s a typical day for you? Do you measure days in the first place?

Looking for a sign, genuinely.

xoxo

Alice