It's February. One year into the pandemic. Woof. 

Last month my partner and I moved from a one-bedroom apartment to two separate units in the same building. I upgraded my writing nook from a walk-in closet to a 400 square foot studio where I have a couch and a bookshelf and a kitchen. It's the first time in my life I've been able to afford my own apartment, and though we are all living through this hellish reality, it's a wonder to walk down the street and not gawk at other put-together looking adults and wonder how the fuck they pay their bills. I'll have eight years sober in May, and this sweet little home I'm building is just one more reason not to be drunk all the time. 

This winter marked two years at The Crime Victims Treatment Center.  I transitioned our 40 hour rape crisis counselor training to the web and certified nearly a hundred new volunteers in October. I also created and co-facilitated our first therapeutic writing group. I think I'm still catching up on sleep. Working with trauma survivors from home is hard, but it's not lost on me how unbelievably privileged I am to not only have a job, but a job with purpose. 

I write music intermittently. Between work and writing writing, it's hard. After realizing my digital distribution deal had lapsed (oops) I finally uploaded the acoustic version of Hungry Ghost to Spotify. 

I also finally accepted I will never be an early-morning writer and now spend most late nights chipping away at my longform essays. I'm currently taking my third hybrid writing workshop at Corporeal Writing School and waiting to hear back about grad school. If you are visiting this page from one of those grad schools, welcome! I absolutely have not been geotracking my website hits since Feb 1.  

Currently reading Kink edited by R.O. Kwon and Garth Greenwell .    

This "now" page was inspired by one of my absolute favorite humans, Derek Sivers.  

This page was last updated February 27, 2021.