This morning, I finished rewatching Lucifer for the umpteenth time. I cried my way through the last four episodes, as always, and then promptly shifted to having The Bear run in the background as I continued working.
The volume changes on both shows are intense: screaming kitchen gives way to calm cool collected date night tones, emotional time travel re-routes give way to action scenes without a speck of dialogue. And through all of it, my brain is happy as that oft-referenced clam. Able to focus on writing and editing and emailing and outreach-ing and organizing and laundry-ing so much more smoothly than it does in silence.
I don’t know if this means that I best thrive in at least an ounce of chaos or if my collection of mental illnesses simply quiet down when someone else is speaking, but I do know that background noise - from podcasts to playlists to TV show rewatches - are the most consistent companion in my day-to-day work life.
Somehow, I’ve found my way back into my Post-It era. I think it’s because of the dopamine.
See, if 2-3 separate to-do items are on each sticky note, and they’re littering my desk to the point that they annoy me into action, and then I cross them off in no particular order, I end up with the reward of getting to crumple up that sticky note and drop it into my trash can. Hence, dopamine.
In a “perfect” world, my overall to-do’s would be far fewer, which would mean fewer Post-Its littering my desktop, which could mean fewer shots of dopamine. Right now, y’all, I’ll take those rushes where I can get them.
The worst thing that someone can say is no.
In so many ways, this advice defines the nearly sixteen years since my brother passed away. If my mom said it before March 4, 2008, I don’t remember it; to me, it’s been a pillar of the After chapter, at least in my life.
This approach comes in handy when you’re a small business owner. With Grief Cards, I’m shamelessly tossing my hat into the ring for every opportunity, every relationship, that I believe in. Do I think I’ll hear from Chewy in the next few months after I proposed pairing their infamous sympathy flowers with a Grief Card? Most likely not. But the potential of it, the possibility, that this idea that followed me around for fourteen years could make that type of an impact - it’s worth any radio silence, any outright now, any not now but maybe later type of response.
I went to Vegas for the first time this month, and I’m still not sure if I’d recommend the city to anyone else. The overstimulation took my dopamine-seeking behaviors, my drowning out preferences, and blew them up to the nth degree. I saw how the 24/7 lights and parties and substances brought out the worst in some people, but I also saw how critical this type of visibility of welcome of togetherness can be for others.
I’ll be back out in Vegas in May/June, alongside my mom, to go see Adele in some of the final days of her residency. And I aim to be recovered from January’s trip in time for the next one.