I have a literary agent! That’s it. That’s the post.

I needed to cry. I always need to cry. I need that expulsion of emotion. I’m not chill about my other passions. Why hold in the hurt?

What’s wrong with me? I ruminated. I’m too much. I’m always too much. This is why I’m not respected among my academic counterparts. I’m not intellectual enough, subdued, quietly brilliant…

There’s a good chance you’re meant for more than what you’re doing right now.

You don’t have to apply to every job you find. You really don’t.

On a long enough timeline, every high will mellow.

Tenure track jobs are hard to come by. So you’d be crazy to turn one down, right? Not necessarily.

Presidents come and go, and yet we’re still here. The Republic—bruised and battered—remains.

I waste inordinate amounts of time reading and watching things that infuriate me.

Love your people. Stay close even from afar. We can still get through this together if we try.

We need to sleep. We need to start making sleep an important aspect of living again. None of us can handle the weight of these days without it.

So perhaps the goal is to limit how much social media you consume. You get to be picky about who makes the cut. Only platforms and channels that serve your goals to preserve your mental health need apply.

When there’s nothing you can do, I say, find something to do.

I’ve been busy for far too long.

Silence is golden, as the saying goes. However, in times of injustice and protest, silence is anything but.

Sometimes it’s deeper. It’s about what happened yesterday or six months ago. It’s been building for a while.

We all need the reminder from time to time. You, in all your oddities and weirdness, are necessary here.