I have the kind of body that doesn’t sleep in on the weekends. Yeah. Be jealous of my circadian rhythm. I woke up around 6, wrote for a bit, and then hit the gym.
While I was working out, my husband started waving his phone at me. Then hopped off the treadmill to show me that Biden and Harris won. I let out a whoop and clapped. (I’m weird. I’m okay with looking weird when I’m happy. Especially when there is only four other people in the entire gym on a November Saturday morning.)
As a queer woman with a Black, Latinx spouse and children, I’ve been in a constant state of low-key dread of ‘what’s next’ the past four years. I can breathe.
At 11, 229 words, I’m a few hundred words behind on my word count for NaNoWriMo, but I’m going to…
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