I haven’t been able to write recently. Nothing I type out sounds right. I can’t figure out why but I know the words are wrong. Can feel it in my stomach— that it’s what I want to say but not in the right order. Even jotting down ideas in my notebook during class, when I read them back, I find myself thinking: This? This was the idea you were so excited about?

Maybe I’m being too hard on myself? Am usually too hard on myself if we’re being honest. It’s just: nothing here feels right and I think it’s because my head feels full of future ideas, plans, notions about how life is supposed to go. That kind of thing.

I was doing my homework— reading long essays and analyzing gender-related articles and all that jazz— but the Internet went out due to the storm. So now I’m watching Gilmore Girls. It’s the episode where Rory and Logan steal that fancy boat. I’ve never liked Logan just like I don’t like not being able to write. When I sit down to write my weekly Odyssey article, I always have an idea!

Now, I don’t. I feel like Rory when she was trying to casually hang out with Logan but knew it wasn’t the right way to go— trying a bit too hard to make it work when it just…. wasn’t what she wanted.

I went to Sarasota last weekend, hung around the dog beach, watched the sun set slowly, feet buried in the sand. I felt calm and happy and like I could write if I tried. Turns out, nothing worked and I was left with nothing to write about.

I know there are things to say. Read: the Women’s March this weekend. The turnout was massive and my heart was so full seeing the solidarity and power harnessed when thousands of people show up in support of what is good and true and right about being a human in this odd, usually terrible, misjudging world.

Rory got arrested (Read: Gilmore Girls spoiler!) and things are all-around tense. I hope the words come easily this next week and the weather clears up. Hopefully Rory Gilmore get her life back on track but alas, she's in college right? It’s the place for confusion to fester, or so I hear.