My Fucking Feelings

Getting something when you’re not ready never turns out good

New experience: Taking a shit in the middle of the night with a seven pound baby strapped to your chest, praying she doesn’t wake up.

These days I’m up at 4am. I strap a little human to my chest and go into the living room so mommy can sleep. I bounce on a giant rubber ball for a few minutes to make sure Logan is out cold before making coffee and taking a seat in the glass corner of our new loft to write.

I like it in this glass corner. It reminds me of a corner office, the kind where you look out and feel like you’ve climbed something. This corner is the only reason why we moved into this loft. Well, that and the fact that I can throw a quarter and hit my mom’s house. Having your mom right across the street when you have a newborn is priceless.

I grew up on these streets. Every time I open the blinds, I see the Hoover H we used to chalk on the side of the Glendale hills. How well it’s chalked is a direct reflection of the current school spirit. It’s completely faded and barely noticeable. It probably hasn’t been chalked in years, no longer a ritual. It makes me sad. High school was some of the best times of my life. We used to streak naked down that road. There’s a spectacular view up there no one really knows about. I’m sure it’s…