By: Gabriela Yareliz
I accidentally said Kenny Chesney died. Nope, it was Kenny Rogers. I always do that. I always accidentally kill the wrong person in my head. I once said Larry King was dead. I seriously believed it. Nope, he is still getting married and getting divorced (has he not heard of dating?).
Sigh. Respect, Kenny Rogers, respect. It was interesting listening to an old interview of his on the Bobby Bones Show. So interesting how we can hear someone who is no longer with us. That always gives me chills. Like when I go to a museum and they have a clip of a former president giving a speech. Chills! (I also acknowledge that I am a nerd. I stamped our national park passport ceremonially like it’s a rite of passage. THIS IS WHO I AM).
Maybe, someday, when I am gone, someone will read this. It will be my way of still talking. Except I am not as cool as Rogers. Dolly Parton isn’t my BFF.
I listened to my morning show, live (I usually listen to the previous day on podcast). I went to work. I spent a long time staring at and playing around with a contract structure. It was one I had never seen before (learning in the time of quarantine). After much internal turmoil, prayer and begging for God’s help (more like telling him that I didn’t know what the hell I was doing)— I got it.
It was a rainy, gray day. I opened the window for a bit. I skipped lunch. I oddly felt like I was in the mood to fast until dinner, so I did. Dinner was a very millennial avocado toast.
I FaceTimed a good friend and my love. I know for a fact that a lot of people had a rough Monday, today. I hope you didn’t.
If you are looking for something to be grateful for— we are alive. Alive like Kenny Chesney.