Weight Lifted, Part Two 👻
Staycation reservation secured. I’m out the door, while hoping not to get mugged
✍️ August 30, 2023
My shoulders are heavy. Weighed down by pressure and an overly stuffed backpack. If I booked a massage right now it would be one of those where the masseuse gasps in horror and says, “Oooh you’re soooo tense, do you work at a computer all day?”
Residual tension from the summer is collecting in my traps and neck, and a little gremlin in my lower back shouts to get out in the form of sharp, shooting pains. Return me to the yoga mat, stat! it screams from somewhere atop my iliac crest.
Thankfully, I’m heading across the East River to stay for two nights of rest and relaxation. Sure, sure—but also to place another big bet within my business.
My ability to sustainably support the household depends on something shaking out.
That doesn’t sound very restful, you say.
I agree. But we’re working with what we’ve got!
My rolling suitcase is packed with reading material that piled up over the last few months of rolling in ‘doh—newspapers and magazines, mostly—snail mail correspondence, my travel-sized podcast mic, work-related gadgets, and my favorite cozy cashmere sweats (I can’t be trusted not to ruin them on a day-to-day basis).
I drag my bags—enough luggage for a two-week trip even though I only booked two nights—through the dirty streets to the subway.
I am always nervous carrying this much with me in public. I hug my rolling bag tight to my knees for the 45-minute subway ride, then up through the elevator at Clark Street in Brooklyn Heights.1
I emerge onto Henry, a breathtaking block inspiring the stuff of novels: serene, tree-lined, dotted with interesting restaurants and coffee shops.
Every time I cross Pineapple Street a few blocks down, I think of Jenny Jackson—an executive editor at Knopf whose debut novel of the same name became an instant bestseller. I should read it, I think each time. Maybe those good vibes will rub off on me.
Halfway along the ten-minute walk to my staycation spot, I stop to send a quick message to my teammate Faye:
“FYI both lists were successfully imported to Substack today! Pivot announcement will go out tomorrow at 10am, and TWS on Friday at 10am — we may need to process a big wave of unsubscribes between both over these next two days!”
After hitting send, I resume my trek, but am taken aback by a strange sensation: