Today, I have an appointment with a new neurologist at Dartmouth. Since my longtime provider at the Headache Clinic moved away, it’s been a bit of a revolving door—they’ve had a hard time finding someone permanent to fill her role. This will be the fourth provider I’ve seen since she left, and while I’m keeping an open mind, it’s hard not to feel a little weary of having to start over again with someone new. That said, there’s a bit of reassurance going in: my primary doctor actually knows this new neurologist personally. They’ve worked together in the past within the same hospital network, and he told me he thinks I’ll like him. I’m holding onto that hope. 

This visit is especially important because my migraines have been getting worse over the past few weeks. The Botox injections I receive every few months have worn off, and I can feel the familiar pressure building again. I’m heading back to Dartmouth on Wednesday for my next round of injections, and I’m hoping they bring some relief before things get even more intense. 

On a brighter note, I found out that my trainer will still be working with me for two more weeks! He’s transitioning into his new position as assistant manager, but because of some onboarding delays, I get a little more time with him. I’m really glad—our sessions have been such a steady and motivating part of my week, and I’m not quite ready to give them up. 

So, here’s to new beginnings (again), to holding out hope for a bit of relief, and to small silver linings where we can find them. 

— 

Wishing you all a good week—full of strength, support, and maybe a little less pain.

I’ll be honest, I don’t really care anything about archery, but I do like these pictures. There is just something very sexy about these adult Cupids. (I guess I should say Eros, Cupid’s Roman counterpart, is more often depicted as either an adult or young adult, whereas Cupid is more often depicted as younger.)

After two blissful weeks mostly away from work—save for those pesky Thursdays—I’m officially back to my regular schedule starting today. The vacation glow has already started to fade, and I can feel the familiar weight of routine settling back on my shoulders. While I’ll still be working from home on Fridays (a small but welcome mercy), the Monday-through-Thursday grind resumes with all its usual charm—or lack thereof.

Truthfully, I’m not exactly thrilled to be back. It’s not just that the rhythm of summer makes everything feel slower and heavier. It’s that summer at the museum tends to be… well, quiet. Too quiet. There are no classes to prep for, no public programs to plan, no whirlwind of events to coordinate. Just a few tours here and there, which don’t require much in the way of preparation. I could practically recite those scripts in my sleep—and, some days, I think I do.

To make matters even less enticing, my boss is not exactly my favorite person. Let’s just say their leadership style is a little too hands-on in all the wrong ways, and not nearly hands-on enough where it might actually help. Combine that with the slow trickle of summer foot traffic and the looming sense of “Why am I even here?” and you’ve got the perfect recipe for seasonal ennui.

But I suppose there’s something to be said for the quiet, even if it’s not particularly productive. Sometimes, the summer lull gives me time to think, reflect, and—if I’m lucky—sneak in a bit of personal writing or reading between tasks. And with Fridays still reserved for the sanctuary of working from home, I’ll take the silver linings where I can find them.

Here’s hoping the next few weeks bring a little unexpected joy—or at least a few interesting visitors to break up the monotony. If nothing else, I’ll have time to daydream about my next escape… or write a blog post or two.

It’s Friday at last, and I think we’ve earned it. Being at work yesterday felt never-ending, like the hours were stretching themselves out just to test my patience. But the weekend is finally in sight.

I’ve really enjoyed my vacation time over the past two weeks—especially Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of this week, which were absolutely beautiful sunny days. Even though Saturday is supposed to bring rain, I’m still looking forward to the chance to be lazy, catch up on some reading, maybe watch a movie—or take some time appreciating the quiet rhythm of my own thoughts… and touch, depending on what kind of movie I end up choosing.

There’s a certain heaviness in knowing it’s coming to an end. The slower mornings, the freedom to do things on my own time, the luxury of not living by an alarm clock—it’s hard to let that go. Isabella even let me sleep until after 5 a.m. a few mornings before demanding I get up and feed her, which felt like a rare and precious gift.

But there’s something to look forward to: Sunday marks the beginning of Pride Month. Even if it’s just a quiet acknowledgment this weekend, there’s comfort in knowing that June brings with it a celebration of identity, resilience, and community. A new month, a new beginning, and a reminder of joy—no matter the weather.

I hope you all have a great weekend!

It’s been far too long since I’ve had a proper evening out—good food, good company, and a reason to dress up a little. One thing you should know about me: I love clothes. I love the search for the perfect outfit, the anticipation of debuting something new, and the quiet confidence that comes from getting dressed up for something special. An old friend used to call me a fashion plate. I’m not sure I’d go that far, but there’s no denying I enjoy the ritual of putting together a look for a night on the town.

Tonight’s outing is long overdue. My friend and I haven’t had a dinner out together in months—perhaps not since my birthday last November. She’s my closest friend here in Vermont. We both moved here around the same time, and we’re both originally from the same part of Alabama, so we share a lot of common ground. But this past semester has been a whirlwind for us both—busy schedules, long days, and not enough energy left for social plans. Until now.

We’ve had this dinner on the calendar all week, and we’re both looking forward to it. It’s not just the company—it’s the destination. The restaurant we’re heading to is a favorite of ours, set along the banks of a cascading river. The sound of rushing water over rocks has always had a calming effect on me. It’s the kind of place where the setting enhances the whole evening.

The ambiance inside is just as appealing: a harmonious blend of industrial and rustic design, softened with modern lighting and eclectic furnishings. It strikes that perfect balance—classy without being stuffy, hip without trying too hard. The crowd is always mixed, which gives it a lively, unpredictable energy that I love.

In the past, I would have picked an outfit well in advance, something I’d been waiting for the right occasion to wear. But lately, with my weight loss, I’m at that in-between stage—too small for many of my old clothes, but not quite ready to invest in a whole new wardrobe. Still, I have a few pieces that fit well and make me feel good. Tonight’s look is simple but springlike: a muted yellow oxford shirt and crisp, light khaki pants. Fresh, clean, and just dressy enough.

Whatever I wear and whatever I eat tonight, the real joy will be sharing the evening with a friend who understands me, in a place that feels both comforting and a little bit special. After all, sometimes the best nights out aren’t about anything extravagant—they’re about reconnecting, relaxing, and remembering how good it feels to just be.