What I Learned on a 30-Day Cleanse Diet

Hello, there my tiny scale friend! What news brings the day? Hark! A higher number than yesterday I see!

I’m not good at 30-day things.

My 30-day yoga challenges turn into 3-day yoga followed by 362-day no-yoga. With a few hot yoga’s thrown in there just because I hate myself and keep holding onto the idea that sweating my weight in liquids onto my yoga mat is actually fun and not the worst idea I’ve ever had.

This past month I tried a 30-day cleanse diet. And boy was it a doozy!

Never in my life would I have sought this kind of thing out on my own free will. But thanks to a lovely friend who posted a transformation photo and story recently (SHOUT OUT to Layne if you out there, girl you duh best), I thought hey, why the hell not.

I had zero expectations with this thing. Negative expectations actually.

I had this conception in my head that people who went on diets were crazy, deranged, wack-a-doodle’s. And sometimes just plain ol’ bat-shit sociopaths.

Who is this motivational person on this pamphlet to tell me not to eat bacon?

I. Don’t. Think. So.

But I called up my ol’ friend from middle school and we chatted about her transformation. It was amazing. She told me she not only looked great but actually felt great too. I liked the idea of not feeling so fat and lazy all the time.

I’d hit a point where I started to notice extra fat hanging around my sides in photographs. I took a selfie and had a double chin without trying. I ate a lot of delicious foods in Europe in the spring and I think they attached themselves to my belly button. Alright, I told myself. What the hell, let’s just do this thing.

Here is my (abridged) experience:

Day before:

• A lot of my friends are resisting the idea of me being on a diet “You don’t need to lose weight,” they say. “Haven’t you heard of working out?” “That’s a pyramid scam,” or my personal favorite, “Just cut out carbs, it’s easy.”

• I promptly want to punch them all in the face.

• I buy a sugary coffee on my way to an improv show, there was 5 dollar minimum on the card so I had to buy a bag of skittles (obviously).

• I drink a beer with new friends after the show because I have a feeling this is the last time I can do this kind of thing.

• I buy a tube of Pringles on the subway home. I feel hopeless and probably not even that hungry. I see a guy pissing on the side of the subway, run to the opposite side of the platform, and eat half the tube in disgust and shame. I get on the subway and try to offer the other half of my Pringles can to a homeless man and even HE didn’t want that shit. I get off the subway and proceed to throw away the can in the nearest trashcan.

Day 1: Sat 8/12

• Wake up, tired at 10:30 a.m.

• Read the directions on my giant box of mystery weight loss products.

• Take a “natural accelerator” pill.

• Drink 1 oz. of a weird brown liquid and start to question my life decisions.

• Make a vanilla shake, not the worst thing I’ve ever had. But it’s no doughnut.

• It’s snack time! I am so excited to eat again that I try to cut into a baby avocado that isn’t even close to ripe and butcher it horribly.

My life summed up in one photograph...

• I end up eating 10 grape tomatoes and a tiny spoon of hummus and kind of want to punch my boyfriend* as he opens a bag of Takis while simultaneously offering me a scoop of ice cream.

• Make banana bread with chocolate chips that I can’t eat and lick the spoon on accident.

• 2nd shake of the day, strawberry…I get the consistency down a bit better.

• First meal of day: half plate Kale (it’s surprising how good Kale can taste when you haven’t had solid food all day), half plate whole grain coos-coos with spoon of garlic, some artichokes, and a handful of grape tomatoes, plus some Trader Joe’s Mango Sweet and Spicy dressing (probably not supposed to eat this dressing but fuck it).

Day 2: Sun 8/13

• I feel sick this morning, like pukey. Maybe it’s the consistency of the shake. I’ve let it sit for a bit and now it’s lukewarm. I try to drink it, but cast half aside unable to stomach the texture of what feels like warm drool.

• I gulp down the brown liquid stuff again and feel like a whiny 9-year old taking my cough syrup medicine.

• For a snack, I have lentils and rice and veggies and don’t totally hate myself.

• Only one word can describe my emotions at 11 a.m. HANGRY. FUCKING HANGRY.

• I have my 2nd shake and a handful of almonds.

• I make dinner. A baked stuffed pepper with quinoa, asparagus, tomatoes. I inhale half of it and then have to get on a train to a house event.

• I break not once, not twice but THREE times at the house party. I sneakily inhale three bites of fettuccine alfredo, then cut a pizza into a small triangle and inhale that in shame, and then cut a small piece of bread. In my haste, the bread drops to the floor and I pick it up and dust it off, cover it with brie cheese and homemade berry jam and eat it anyway.

• I feel like a giant dumpster fire of a human being.

• No one at the party senses my disdain for them all as I watch them merrily eat everything and anything they want. Those fucking assholes with their brie cheese. BRIE.

LOOK AWAY.

Day 3: Mon 8/14

• I feel much better this morning and have my 1st shake of the day and prep for an interview.

• I get really hungry right as I’m leaving for the interview. I’m stressed because I’m helping someone new move into the house. I eat a “Go Lean” Isagenix bar and make a strawberry shake for the subway ride.

• My train is about to leave and I’m walking the new guy to the train but he needs to refill his MetroCard. I apologize and run onto the train anyway, not stopping for him because I can’t risk being late to this interview.

• I am early to my interview, encouraging me to stop at Starbucks and order an unsweetened pineapple black tea and call my best friend Kristen.

• I eat a quinoa bowl and water for dinner! Go me!

• I go to a friend’s comedy show. There is a 2 drink minimum which I confuse with a 2 item minimum. I buy zucchini chips…(okay they are fried), a hot chocolate with peppermint schnapps (minus whipped cream), and a way too expensive Perrier.

• I get to keep the mug from my alcoholic drink but steal the pen from signing the check because I spent 40 bucks and feel empty inside.

Day 4: Tues 8/15

• I get help from a friend on how to manage the 20-person co-living space I’ve just been hired to manage. I drink my shake slowly over the course of 3 hours.

• Later I go to a coffee shop and get a tea while I prepare for another interview for the next day.

• It’s 4 pm and I’m still at the coffee shop and now I am STARVING because I suck at following an eating schedule.

• I get home and eat a handful of nuts and cranberries.

• I eat 5 mini pretzels with cheese.

• I eat 5 cinnamon sugar almonds.

• I have my 2nd shake.

• I lead a house meeting and order pizza for my housemates. I eat a salad and fruit and try my best not to even look at the pizza. Go me!

Day 5: Wed 8/16

• I might be losing my mind but there are weird beige spots on my arms today…are these bruises? Am I dying? Wtf is going on.

• I feel more energy today but feel like I need more to really crush my interview. I eat a Go Lean bar on the way to the 911 Memorial and stop at Starbucks for a small iced coffee with a pump of vanilla. I crush my interview and feel awesome on the sugar high that I'm not allowed to be experiencing.

• I drink my 2nd shake then meet at Whole foods in Tribeca for manager training and dinner for my house. I get a box and head to the salad bar. I get some grilled veggies, salad, stuffed zucchini, tiki masala…and shit now I’ve gotten 2 large spoon’s full of mac and cheese, how the fuck did that happen. Oh, well.

• I decline dessert even though the CEO’s are buying.

• I go home and have a weird bowel movement.

Day 6: Thurs 8/17 (Cleanse Day 1)

• It’s cleanse day #1 and I talk to Layne on the phone about the schedule I should follow for cleanse days. I have absolutely no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.

• I spend the day eating my chalky capsules, pills, juice concoctions, chocolate (that’s my favorite part), and water.

• I sit and watch my boyfriend* order a veggie burger at a restaurant and can barely stand it.

• I have one slice of cucumber and a slice of tomato on accident.

• I’m writing like mad today because a publisher has requested my manuscript. I am having trouble focusing on the task at hand because I like to eat when I write. A lot.

Day 7: Fri 8/18 (Cleanse Day 2)

• It’s cleanse day #2; they are back to back every few weeks and I feel like that’s a recipe for disaster (and not the delicious kind).

• I’m actually doing okay. I’m surprised that I survived yesterday without real food.

• I follow the hourly schedule with fighter pilot precision.

• My boyfriend* lets me have a bite of mango at 3 p.m.

• This is more of a mental game than anything else. I don’t think I’m even that hungry, I just want to eat food to eat it, you know?

Day 8: Sat 8/19

• My book is due to the publisher today and I am stressed AF. I get up early to write, make a shake and forget to eat again until 5 p.m. I eat some pretzel crackers and avocado in .02 seconds over the sink.

• I lead an improv workshop in the basement of the house and buy some sugary snacks and alcohol for everyone. I eat a few pieces of chocolate but restrained myself from alcohol (okay so I took a sip and then bf was like “what are you doin’” and I was like “you right Bae, thanks”).

• I eat 2 bites of zucchini pasta and a shake for dinner.

• I weigh in and have lost about 5 pounds.

Day 9: Sun 8/20

• It’s Brunch Day at the house and we’re pulling out all the stops: biscuits and gravy, eggs, an entire case of champagne…

• Restrained myself and had Kombucha instead of Champagne and I’m going to be honest they taste about the same.

• I try to keep it light and have a few potatoes, half a biscuit, and tons of fruit (the non-Tequila-soaked ones).

• Lesson: I don’t even crave the alcohol, it’s the company. The people. I want to be around my friends!

Day 10: Mon 8/21

• It’s my first day at my editorial internship and I’m excited to walk into the office feeling like a big girl with a big important job.

• I kind of forget to eat again during normal lunch time but brought snacks and had a salad and shake.

• After the internship, I meet up with my new friend Becky and BREAK the shit out of my diet by eating a cheese board, bread, and “world famous” mac and cheese.

• I regret nothing but also everything.

• I feel a bit guilty, but also manage to restrain myself from alcohol for the 3rd day in a row! Wow!

Day 11: Tues 8/22

• Adding this Isagenix orange energy powder thing to my Vanilla shake (tastes like Orange Creamsicle) is rocking my world right now.

• I do a 4 mile run at Prospect Park and talk to geese and turtles and see a swan floating away like he didn’t want none of your bullshit.

• Lunch/Dinner: Veggie burger with Ezekiel bread, garlic spread, sweet corn salsa, tomatoes, and cucumbers OMG FOODGASM.

• Another shake at night and some bites of curry (bf is so supportive he gives me bites but only of healthy stuff).

• I realize that I am saving so much money on not eating out, drinking alcohol, and grocery shopping! YAY ME.

Day 12: Wed 8/23

• This Orange Creamsicle invention is still giving me life.

• I find out about the release of a new shake flavor, Cookies n’ Cream. I order it immediately and within a few hours, it completely breaks the internet.

• I make Quinoa pasta with Ezekiel bread on side for dinner 😊

Looks like I'm cheating...doesn't it. WELL I'M ACTUALLY NOT THIS TIME.

• I notice: not drinking enough water! Bad!

• Not much physical activity today but I felt pretty energetic.

• Made banana bread and subconsciously (or consciously) forgot to add the 3/4th cup of sugar! Woops. Still tasted good though with chocolate chips, soy milk, applesauce, and some agave.

Day 13: Thurs 8/24

• Was doing fine today until I saw an almond croissant from a bakery window…I ate it, naturally. I thought to myself, wow that was bad, why don’t I make up for it with this $8 juice, that must be healthy for me right? Um, NO. 190 calories, 810 mg potassium (okay, that’s okay right?), 45g carbs, 16g sugar, 340% Vitamin C. Alright, so not altogether awful. At least it’s not a Coke, right? But definitely not as healthy as the happy leaf on the front of the bottle would have you believe.

• I also notice when I tell myself I’m “hungry,” I actually get hungry. Like if I wasn’t thinking about food 24/7 I probably would have gotten on the train, skipped the almond croissant and juice, and been just fine.

Day 14: Fri 8/25

• I think I did okay today?

• I drink two shakes, a sushi dinner…is sushi in my diet? Can I eat this? No matter, it’s fucking delicious.

• I do some stand up at an open mic and don’t get any alcohol.

• When I get home some of the boys downstairs are playing a drinking game on the porch. I join them and feel super awkward when I decline alcohol again. “C’MON, ONE SHOT!” They scream. Nah, I’m okay. I just want to watch you all fail at the simplest of tasks in this game right now.

Day 15: Sat 8/26

• I have a comedy show tonight! I’m super excited and surprised that I got booked (shoutout to Raman if you in dis, thanks for hookin’ me up!).

• I have my shakes throughout the day and prep my set.

• I go to lunch with my good friend and brain buddy Emily who I haven’t seen for 6 years and we order a pizza and some salads. I wonder if it’s healthier because it’s gluten free but at this point, I think I’m just trying to make excuses. A pizza is a pizza.

• The show goes great and I feel back in the swing of stand up!

Day 16: Sun 8/27

• I’m getting a little frustrated because I’m not seeing the number on the scale go down…like at all. Damn it, pizza.

• I’m also on my special lady time so I’m bloated and feeling gross.

• I go for a run today which feels good.

• I want to eat a lot today, and I’m not really sure why...

• We do a taco bar for house dinner and I make mine like a salad…which is still probs not that healthy because I’ve dumped a bit of queso (okay a luxurious amount of queso) onto it.

• I’m not loving myself today. I feel shameful when I have these “fat” moments. It feels like I’m really screwing this up pretty much every day. Maybe I’m just emotional because my uterus feels like it’s on fire? I don’t know.

• I eat some snacks in the basement when we watch the Game of Thrones finale and feel real triggered.

Day 17: Mon 8/28

• Ate a “snack” tablet (kind of like a chalky tablet version of a shake) and an energy shot before my…wait for it…10.5 mile run. Yes. It’s true. I actually spent like 4 miles of this run getting lost in a cemetery, because that seemed like a good idea at the time.

• Finally arrive at my destination (a Trader Joe’s, obviously) and am a little disappointed by the scope and size of this location’s store. I buy some protein bars, water, and a non-Isagenix protein shake and call an Uber right as my phone is about to completely die.

• Take a shower. Get lunch with boyfriend* and another friend at an Israeli place down the street. I don’t realize what I’m ordering and it’s a sandwich. I pick off the bread and eat all the yummy veggie insides.

Day 18: Tues 8/29

• The granola from Trader Joe’s is like crack cocaine…I hope I’m allowed to eat this. It looks healthy. It’s gotta be healthy. I mean come on.

• I snack during the internship on dried mango, a banana, and some chips and pico de gallo from the deli downstairs during lunch break. I’ve spent all day writing about food that I can’t eat and alcohol I can’t drink. It’s getting kind of annoying.

• I stop at a chocolate store to buy something (for my boyfriend*, not for me!) and end up getting a sample piece of chocolate and a sample of a pistachio macaroon. What! What was I supposed to do? Turn down a macaroon from the nice man? Come now, I might be on a diet but I do have a soul.

• Caught a whiff of Chick-fil-A on the way from the chocolate store to the subway and hate everything.

Day 19: Wed 8/30

• A French house guest catches me making my shake this morning (with my new Cookies and Cream flavor!) and comments that “zat stuff eez really bad for you.” Hmm. Pourquoi, my little French busybody? I guess it’s starting to piss me off a reasonable amount that everybody and their mother has to weigh in on my dietary choices. What’s that? It’s bad for my liver you say? Please tell me more as you smoke that cigarette.

• The office ordered pizza for a meeting. And I sit contemplating my next move. Which is to eat 3 slices, obviously. I proceed to hate myself despite the deliciousness. I try to tell myself it’s okay because it was thin crust.

• Bargaining. The third step of grieving. Next, I will slip into a foodie depression.

• When I get home I eat some biscotti cookies.

• I don’t have my second shake until 11:30 p.m. I just can’t seem to get the scheduling down. I get distracted and I’m like “oh I already ruined my diet today so might as well just not eat!” That’s not good.

Day 20: Thurs 8/31

• I felt much better today. A bit more in control. I have 2 shakes throughout the day, some light snacks, a veggie patty, salad, and risotto (okay it had cheese in it but that was an oversight on my part, don't judge meeeee).

• It was a stressful day at the internship. I have a lot on my mind today and people are moving in and out of house like crazy. A friend calls to tell me she is having health issues. I cry for five minutes in the private phone booth at work for no apparent reason other than being overwhelmed.

• I probably ate something small I wasn’t supposed to at some point today. I can’t remember.

Day 21: Fri 9/1 (CLEANSE DAY 3)

• I hated today. I was very emotional, and it felt like there was drama around every corner. It was a terrible day for a cleanse day but I stuck to it. I watched a friend eat Indian food in front of me and I’m really proud of myself for that.

• Just a bullshit emotional day.

• I’ve lost 10 pounds.

Day 22: Sat 9/2 (CLEANSE DAY 4)

• I’m still emotional and at this point, my eyes just look puffy from all the crying I’ve been doing. I go for a run and call a friend to debrief her on the newest developments in my emotional roller coaster ride.

• I fucking hate not eating.

• I look real skinny today though.

Day 23: Sun 9/3

• I feel happy to be back to shakes today, Cookie’s n’ Cream is pretty bomb and I’m happy it exists.

• I go to a BBQ for my house and feel a little anxious about not being able to find food there that I can eat. I’m relieved to find a veggie burger.

• But I have a few Oreo’s from the dessert table. I’ve had a rough freaking weekend. I deserve this.

Day 24: Mon 9/4

• I wish I knew what went down on this day. I can’t find my notes for this day anywhere. Oh well. Use your imagination!

Day 25: Tues 9/5

• I did aiiight today.

• I did manage to start pinning doughnut places in NYC to my favorite’s tab today during work so that I can visit all of them once my diet ends. Sounds like a great idea.

• I made veggies and a sweet potato for dinner. Veggies go bad so fast I notice…

Day 26: Wed 9/6

• The Hannah’s (the names of the other interns, lol) are making fun of me for my lame shakes at our internship today. Not like in a mean way. I think part of them admire my quasi-dedication to this thing.

• I have a veggie burger for dinner and it’s delicious but I wasn’t supposed to eat the bread (don’t care). I eat some chips and guac and a swig of fancy cognac (that’s alcohol, and no I don’t care) for a friend’s going away party at the house.

• I make scones for the house snack. And eat one.

Day 27: Thurs 9/7

• Made a healthy quinoa breakfast with blueberries, cinnamon, and some other healthy bullshit. It’s actually really good. I know I’ve been grumpy these past few days, but really it’s not so bad.

• I accidentally skip a meal.

• I get home to find that my boyfriend* has made me a bowl of ice cream with blueberries and it makes me feel very special but I also know I’m not supposed to have it. I agree to have several bites and make him eat the rest of it.

• I eat some Ezekiel bread with garlic spread close to 10:30 p.m.

Day 28: Fri 9/8

• My boyfriend* and I stay in all day. We have granola and fruit for breakfast, order Pad Thai, and binge watch Bollywood movies all day.

• I’m feeling down this week, for a lot of reasons unrelated to the diet, but a few caused specifically by the diet.

• I’m getting really angry about having to say no to food. I feels like an open invitation for people to question me when I’m out somewhere. I also don’t think I’ve lost as much weight or fat as I wanted to, which I know is probably because all of my not-so-sneeky food cheating. I’m back up a few pounds from the cleanse day when I was at my lowest weight.

Day 29: Sat 9/9

• I unofficially end my diet a day early by eating peach french toast out with a friend for brunch.

• I get a green tea frappacino later in the day as I kill time before my improv class.

• After class I meet my boyfriend* at the bus station to go to Saugerties, a small town in up state NY where we’ve booked an Airbnb and decide to take a long weekend.

• Our bus makes a stop along the way at a cute diner and we order grilled cheese and fries.

• I have definitely ended my diet and I feel a lot of things about it…

I raise a grilled cheese to YOU, good friend.

Day 30: Sun 9/10

• For breakfast we go to a cute little restaurant in the main strip of town and I order a vegan pancake. I feel a little better about ending the whole thing but the lure of vacation food is too tempting. For lunch we have some chips and queso and for dinner I eat a steak taco and get a cider. Later I drink half a bottle of wine and we watch more Bollywood movies.

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations!

You’re likely well suited to attempt a 30-day adventure just by your shear will and determination to get through this long ass post!

A few last thoughts.

Since ending my 30-day diet I have bounced back pretty closely to where I was before, numbers wise. I’m not happy about this, but I know that I was also going through a tremedously difficult season of life (and still am). I realize now that it took extreme focus to live my life this way for this period of time, even if it wasn’t executed perfectly.

I know deep down I could have done better, I could have been more careful about falling back off once the diet was over. I could have done a lot more sit ups, probably.

But this is life. It’s a process. There are no 30-day magic fixes for our lives, in the health department or otherwise. I’ve decided that this was the first step that I needed to take to achieve a healthy lifestyle and I’m willing to try it again and would truly recommend it for anyone who wants to be healthier in body and mind.

I think there should be a balance though. This thing was no joke. It was extremely strict and as a result I sometimes felt ill-equipt to follow it with precision. But what I was doing before (and started to slip back into after) was the completely wrong way to go about eating.

I had no mindfulness about what was going into my body, nor did I care what it did to me.

And this truly has to change.

I’m still working on it. It might take me another 30 days. Maybe 90. Shit, maybe 365. But I’m conscious of this now and I owe it to myself to keep working.

Not half bad for sneaking contraband food items under the table more than a few times...

*Editor’s note: Yes, it’s true. I was dating someone during this time. And it truly made me a better candidate for success. If your curiousity is killing you because you haven’t talked to me in 2+ months please feel free to call me on the phone, send me a hand written letter, or a carrier pidgeon if you wish to know further.

50 Things You Learn Your First Weeks in New York City

Me: "HEY, I'M WALKIN' H-" Taxicab: *proceeds to move toward me*

I’ve done it, you guys.

I’ve survived. I saw a rat and it didn’t eat me and I can get on the subway without the doors closing on my backpack now! Isn’t this all so exciting?

As hopefully you noticed by now, I moved to New York two weeks ago.

Geaz. I hope you noticed I was gone. That would be really shitty of you to not have noticed that kind of thing.

Anyway.

As the excitement of the first weeks winds down and I find my routine, I’ve been reflecting a lot on what I’ve learned in this short amount of time. It has been the most humbling, exciting, and terrifying 14 days of my life. Here are the biggest lessons I’ve learned so far:

1. Don’t go to Target for produce. Okay, or for anything really. I know this is hard since you’ve been handing 60% of your income to Target for about 15 years now. But really, just avoid Targets, okay?

2. It is easy to convince yourself on your first grocery shopping excursion that you can just take one backpack and fill it up with food and be fine. Please note that by the time you leave the three different grocery stores needed to get adequate food, you will have accumulated one large, human-sized bag in addition to your over-stuffed backpack that you must carry on the subway by yourself hoping to God you don’t recreate that scene from Home Alone where the bag of groceries rips in the street and reveals that he’s not a real grown up after all.

What's that? Do I need it double bagged? Why would I need it double-ohhhhh...now I see. Be gentle. I'm new here. 

3. Sometimes it’s just too damn peopley outside.

4. Other times you will enjoy seeing hundreds of thousands of people and feeling like they are all tiny mysteries with their own stories to tell.

5. But if there’s ever a deadly outbreak of a disease you’re going to absolutely die first because you come into contact with 7 billion people every single day.

6.     Leaving the house without a cellphone charger is pretty much a death sentence.

7.     It’s not impossible to have kids in New York. I’ve seen a single mother of five well-behaved and beautiful children on a subway train at 10 p.m. and it may have been past all of our bedtimes, but they handled it like total champs.

8.     Buzzfeed will not let you upstairs to “see Dan” if you don’t have a legitimate interview.

9.     Most places will not let you upstairs to see “Dan,” “Tim,” or even “Katherine who you emailed that one time” without a legitimate interview.

10.  It’s extremely annoying when people ask you: “So how many interviews have you been on?” and you have to explain to them items 8 and 9.

11.  It’s less emotionally defeating to just email or call to follow up on a job even if your whole life you thought “showing your face” was the quickest way to receive employment and prove your worth in society.

12.  It is entirely possible to sweat through denim jeans. Or denim shirts. Or denim anything. Jesus, why are you wearing denim anything you sociopath, it’s TOO HEAVY A FABRIC.

13.  There are those who can stand up on subway cars without holding onto anything…and then there’s me.

14.  Automated hand dryers are very useful in the event of arriving to a fancy digital media business and learning in the bathroom that you’ve sweat so hard that it looks as though someone has dumped a bucket of water on your back.

15.  If a receptionist has no recollection of your repetitive email correspondence she will ask you if you “want a sticker” to try to get you to leave her desk. If that doesn’t work, a dog will come in and everyone will surround that dog and you will be forced to leave with your stupid sticker because at this point your odds of getting anyone’s attention are negative one billion.

16.  Some subways are air conditioned. Most are not.

17.  New sweat glands that never existed before open up when you move to New York.

18.  Shoes that you could wear comfortably for an entire day now feel like constricting metal death vices filled with shards of glass. Or like an oven mitt that’s been set on fire and then filled with Legos. I’m trying to find a fancy way to describe this and it’s kind of going south but you get the idea: SHOES HURT.

19.  Due to #17, blisters are a thing.

20.  Nexcare Foot Tape will save your life and you will never leave the house without it again.

21.  Sometimes people in Brooklyn double park onto the sidewalk.

22.  It’s not creepy to make silly faces at a baby on the subway as long as you do it for five stops or less.

23.  The Statue of Liberty is not nearly as big as she looks on TV. Plus she’s got some man hands.

24.  Don’t fall for the “Subway Sob Story” which usually begins with a strangely dressed man and the words, “Attention Good People of the L Train –”

25.  While you kind of feel bad for the person in item #24, you find it hard to believe Steve’s girlfriend would have dumped him and kicked him to the curb after learning his 4-year-old daughter was diagnosed with hemorrhoids and is in need of immediate butt surgery.

26.  Headphones are the easiest way to avoid awkward people on the subway.

27.  Even though you easily catalog 50,000 steps a day, you will retain your muffin top. Because cheese and sugary wines are still your best friends and most mortal of enemies.

Why, yes. Yes, our waiter did have a man-bun. How positively cosmopolitan of us.

28.  Listening in to conversations will become your newest and most favorite hobby. *Thick New York accent* “Listen, Jerry. I got this cheeseburger, kay? Are you listening? Kay, I got this cheeseburger. Took a bite. Jerry, I took a bite. Sour.”

29.  Seeing trash on every street becomes normal and doesn’t smell so bad if you just walk faster.

30.  You must resist the urge to scream, “HEY, I’M WALKIN’ HERE” every moment of every day because a taxicab will try to run you down at any opportunity and will not find your witty antics funny nor will they stop their vehicle.

31.  Calling your mother daily is absolutely necessary and actually comforting.

32.  If you don’t drink enough water you might as well go buy a shovel and start digging yourself an early grave.

First day expectation vs. reality. This is the shirt I sweat through from item 14. Why, yes, that is a white shirt. 

33.  Guys on Tinder in New York will offer you to come to their apartment after exchanging approximately five words with you. Or less.

34.  Bars have a $20 minimum on credit cards.

35.  When you see a rat, it is customary to leap off of a park bench and into an oncoming crowd of people.

36.  Sometimes when you go to check out a hip new “start up” in the city, you may come to find that the people at the address listed have never heard of this place and when you try to email the HR department that you’ve been in contact with for several months, that email might bounce back at you and also tell you that this place doesn’t exist.

37.  If you find an apartment under $700 dollars, the neighborhood will have a cop car on every corner and the people scheduled to show you around will conveniently have forgotten that you scheduled to see the place. Take this as a sign and proceed to the nearest subway station and never look back.

38.  Going to an improv class is the quickest way to make new friends who will gladly walk you to your subway station and ride along with you to make sure you reach home safely.

39.  People in New York are not as mean as the reputations that precede them. Each and every one of them went through the same ordeal of finding legitimate employment and housing. They know things that you don’t know. And 99% of them are willing to help you in any way they can.

40.  Your parents and loved ones will question your choice to come here most days, but deep down are supportive and loving and excited that you’re doing this.

41.  You will also question your choice to come here most days. But deep down you want to piss yourself in excitement every time you see a cool building or walk through Central Park.

42.  Google Maps is not great at navigating through Central Park so it’s often necessary to rely on your own (skewed) sense of direction. Or your friend with a flip phone that keeps questioning why Google would take us that way. Or that way. Hey, aren’t we just going in circles?

43.  Ellis Island is absolutely amazing but you must beat the Boy Scouts to get on the Ferry. If you time it just right, you can see the entire museum before noon and leave just as 12,000,000 people are coming off of more and more boats making you wonder if you’ve accidentally entered a time machine and are actually in the year 1901 and in line to get your eyelids pulled on by a scary metal tool to check for trachoma.

44.  You can get into The Museum of Modern Art for free by being really nice to the receptionist and getting her to feel bad for you that you came all the way into the city to give your resumé to Human Resources and they “don’t work on the weekends.” Proceed to wander around MoMa for the next three hours enjoying the air conditioning and getting to see Picasso’s, Pollock’s, and Warhol’s.

45.  It’s completely acceptable to sit at Tompkin’s Square Park listening to Mumford & Son’s song “Tompkin’s Square Park” and cry while you eat your lunch in broad day light because of that one person you miss back at home.

46.  Getting anywhere in under an hour feels too good to be true. And probably is.

47.  It’s easier than ever before to feel inspired in this place. All of a sudden, you are surrounded by creatives, entrepreneur’s, and hustler’s that make you want to be the best version of yourself.

48.  Sometimes you worry if you’ll ever get to that best version of yourself.

49.  Sometimes you fear your own fragility and failure and that the city will eat you alive and sweat you back out.

50.  But deep down to your very core, you know this place will change you, challenge you, and transform you in more ways than you ever thought was possible.

The Sandwich That Changed My Life: Bliss and Where To Find It

I’m not a big sandwich gal.

I mean don’t get me wrong, they’re great. I just can’t seem to finish a whole one. I always find myself dissecting the second half and pulling out the pieces that I like and leaving the other bits mutilated on the plate.

I don’t know why I do that. That’s kind of weird.

Anyway, the reason I tell you this is because a sandwich changed my life.

This past March I spent a week in Spain and a day in England. This was truly a magical week of visiting breathtaking cathedrals, eating yummy Marzipan shaped like cathedrals, and long walks around ancient architecture.

And while this was surely life changing, the most memorable part of this trip was actually something very simple. Eating a sandwich.

Let me provide some context.

After spending an amazing six days with my best friend Kristen and her lovely family (and becoming quite smitten with her 4-year old son), I took off on a plane and landed myself in London, England for a 16-hour layover.

I landed around 9PM and grabbed a cab to my hotel. I still had stars in my eyes from Spain and just hearing the British accents in the airport plastered a giant smile on my face.

The cabbie pulled up (on the opposite side of the street) and asked me where I was headed.

“Hayes!” I said. The town where my hotel was located was called Hayes.

As we drove around and out of the Heathrow Airport, I looked out into the night, my gigantic travel bag sitting next to me like a supportive friend. It was fun feeling like a world traveler. Me and this bag had seen a lot of amazing things the past week.

We arrived at The easyHotel and I pulled 30 Pounds from my worn Wells Fargo envelope for my cab driver.

When I stepped into my hotel room I felt like I was actually in Tokyo, Japan. It was like a little capsule and the bathroom door looked like the entrance to a spaceship. It wasn’t extravagant or expensive. It was simple and clean and would do the job nicely.

In the early morning I showered in the spaceship and took a cab to Windsor to see the Windsor Castle. It wasn’t open for tours until 9:30AM but because I had to check out of the hotel by 10AM I decided to go early. Plus they didn’t allow bags. My travel pack could not accompany me on this adventure.

So, there I was at 7:30 in the morning, stepping out of another cab in front of a castle. It was chilly and I’d only packed a light sweater, but the glow of the sun peaking out from behind the castle brought warmth to my soul.

I mean kind of. It was still really fucking cold.

I walked all around Windsor, seeing the castle from all angles. I took “The Long Walk” down from the castle and contemplated life. Tomorrow I’d be back in my classroom with my students. I loved my kids, but I was already feeling depressed about checking my school email, lesson planning, and grading things I should have graded weeks ago.

But for now I could just walk. Down this cold and open path. It was too early for tourists. It was just me, my footsteps, and a long walk.

Like really long. I must have walked a mile down that thing. (Editor’s note: The Long Walk is 2.65 miles or 4.26 kilometers if you’re British)

I walked back to the front of the castle, meandering down side streets and getting a little lost (it’s okay, Ma. I have a smart phone!). I got back to a coffee shop, ordered an English Breakfast tea cuz’ that sounded like a proper English thing to do, and booked an Uber to pick me up (cuz’ British people like Uber too).

When I got back to the hotel I packed up my human-sized bag, checked out, strapped it to my back, and headed down the street. I didn’t know where I was going or how I’d get there. It didn’t really matter. I still had a few hours to kill before I needed to be at the airport.

So I walked some more. And some more. And some more.

I didn’t stress myself out about where I was or where I needed to be.

But I was getting hungry from all this walking.

At this point I could go for a beer, but it was still only noon and I wanted to have my wits about me maneuvering the Heathrow Airport.

This is where the sandwich comes in.

I bet you were wondering. It’s been a very long build up. Get it. Because I was walking The Long Walk.

Okay, sorry. Back to the sandwich.

I decided to walk myself into a little grocery store to find some food. It was like a 7-Eleven except classier.

I was feeling rather European so I found a baguette, some cheese, prosciutto, and a handful of mustard packets. And a Red Bull. Because that bag is like 40 pounds (and I mean weight not price) and I’d easily walked 10 miles (16.093 kilometers) by now.

I brought my goodies to a park bench by an open courtyard and began to assemble my sandwich.

I sat there in that small courtyard and ate that whole sandwich, my bag and I taking up the entire park bench.

And as weird as this is about to sound: that was the happiest moment of my life.

It was the purest bliss I’d ever experienced. It was so simple. I was eating a sandwich. Granted, the fact that I was in a beautiful part of the world didn’t hurt, but I wasn’t taking pictures at Big Ben or any other tourist site. I wasn’t hitting the town for an exciting live band or salsa dancing with a sexy foreigner.

I was just eating a sandwich.

Time stopped being time. It was just place. Here on this bench with a mouthful of cheap bread and cheese with my travel bag sitting next to me quietly.

I stopped worrying about my upcoming existential crisis of quitting my job. I wasn’t looking at my phone. I wasn’t sending cute travel snapchats to my friends or panicking about how much money I had left in my little envelope.

I was just there. Truly in the moment. Slobbering all over myself with a giant smile on my face for absolutely no one to see but myself.

Transcendence. Mindfulness. Bliss. Whatever you want to call it, I was doing it.

For the first time ever I realized that happiness doesn’t just happen to you, you have to make it happen yourself. In every small and insignificant moment.

I’d traveled the world, seen beautiful things, yet I was still content to stress myself out about things that I couldn’t control. I felt burdened by my thoughts, feelings, and circumstance. And in that moment I let go. I let go of everything and allowed myself to be present in the simplest of events.

It’s not easy.

I’m not saying the next time you eat a sandwich you can’t transcend like I did, hey, maybe you eat a lot of bomb-ass sandwiches. But it might not happen that way for you. Everyone is different.

But I do know that bliss and happiness is possible. In the everyday and tiny moments that we can consciously choose to be present for and enjoy.

So show up for your life. Know when to pay attention to the small details and when to let yourself be in the moment. Travel the world and eat as many sandwiches as you can.

You only have this one life.

"2007 called, they want their jumping pictures back."

It's Time to Cut the Shit About Trumpcare

As most of you know, I had a Craniotomy in 2014.

That means a really hot dude in his 40’s took a very fancy tool to the back of my noggin' and fixed some shit back there. I got a lot of fun drugs and a few weeks in an intensive therapy center where I spent a lot of time telling therapists that I didn’t need a wheelchair.

As you can see I’m super nonchalant about all this.

It’s easier that way.

I get to joke about my medical history all I want now.

And I can do that because I’m fucking alive.

You see, I had this thing. It’s called health care.

For those of you that don’t know what that is, it works like this:

Me: “Hey Dad, just curious, how much did my brain surgery cost?”

Dad: “About $285,000 dollars –”

Me: “I’M SORRY, WHAT?”

Dad: “Oh, yeah.”

Me: “Did you have to sell your body parts to pay that? DAD, DO YOU COOK METH.”

Dad: “No, I don’t cook Meth, dear. We had to pay about $14,000 or so to meet our maximum and our insurance paid for the rest.”

The number $285,000 dollars didn’t make sense to me. Even $14,000 was a high amount for my messed up brain to contemplate. How could it possibly be that these numbers added up?

Even scarier, what would have happened to me if I didn’t have health care?

The answer from my parents was a bit more complex.

“Remember in the E.R.?” My mom asked.

“I remember very little,” I said. “Except for being fucking terrified.”

The Emergency Room was a very scary place for me. It was like those scenes in movies in the hospitals where everyone is running around and people are screaming and dying. I didn’t close my eyes the entire time I was there.

“There was this guy in the hall outside your room,” Mom said. “He looked really messed up. It looked like Heroine or something else. They hooked him up to an IV and then once he was sober they threw him out on the sidewalk.”

“Did they give him a bill for thousands of dollars too?” I asked.

“They folded it up and stuck it in his back pocket,”

“What if he didn’t pay it? What if he was homeless or something?”

“The hospital pays it.”

“But what about me? What if you couldn’t afford to pay those hospital bills for my surgery?”

“They would have found a way to get our money.”

I don’t know a lot of things, but I do know this:

American health care is run like a business.

If you don’t believe me, ask my mother about the THREE times I was turned away at the ER without medical imaging or hospital care because I looked fine. I mean my brain was bleeding from the inside, but hey, I looked amazing. Then, anyway.

And this is with health care.

Listen, nothing in this world is perfect, okay?

Obamacare sought to keep insurance companies from denying people the right to apply for health insurance if they had pre-existing conditions.

This is great, you guys! That’s me! I have like five of those pre-existing conditions. Including being a woman, apparently.

The problem is people are the worst and some started abusing this system which hurt insurance companies. But here’s the thing too. The health care under Obamacare? It currently covers millions of people. And once that shit goes away?

Well, hang on. I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had to do some research. Because I was a little confused. Okay I was a lot confused.

What is Trumpcare anyway? According to trumpcare.org here are the 7 points of the proposed health care bill and my take on each of them.

1. Completely repeal Obamacare. Our elected representatives must eliminate the individual mandate. No person should be required to buy insurance unless he or she wants to.

Nobody wants to pay for insurance, obviously. Do you think I like having this shit taken out of my paycheck, you peasant? Oh, I forgot this is YOU we’re talking about. You’ve probably never had to pay for anything your whole damn life, my apologies.

Listen: you know what I do enjoy though? Knowing that if my fucking head explodes that I won’t DIE. So, you know what, give me the health care. Give me all the damn health care. I’ll take two beefy health cares with some health care sprinkled on top. With a pre-existing condition on the side.

If you're curious about how Obamacare compares to Trumpcare, I found this lovely graphic courtesy of trumpcare.com:

2. Modify existing law that inhibits the sale of health insurance across state lines. As long as the plan purchased complies with state requirements, any vendor ought to be able to offer insurance in any state. By allowing full competition in this market, insurance costs will go down and consumer satisfaction will go up.

Okay, I don’t truly know what to think about this one other than that the words “full competition in this market” don’t sound like they should be in the same sentence as my health insurance. Also “consumer satisfaction.” That’s funny to me for some reason. Do I get to buy a Snicker's Bar in the ER? That would make this consumer very satisfied. 

3. Allow individuals to fully deduct health insurance premium payments from their tax returns under the current tax system. Businesses are allowed to take these deductions so why wouldn’t Congress allow individuals the same exemptions? As we allow the free market to provide insurance coverage opportunities to companies and individuals, we must also make sure that no one slips through the cracks simply because they cannot afford insurance. We must review basic options for Medicaid and work with states to ensure that those who want healthcare coverage can have it.

You know, this part sounds great. If you do your taxes, that is. I guess when I think about people “slipping through the cracks” I think back to that dude on Heroine outside of my ER room. The truth of the matter is, the hospitals will not turn you away if you don’t have health insurance. They will treat you. I mean they won’t make you a banana split from the dining hall or anything, but they’ll try their best to keep you alive. As for Medicaid, I don’t personally have it, but I know people that do. And they’re all gonna be fucked.

4. Allow individuals to use Health Savings Accounts (HSAs). Contributions into HSAs should be tax-free and should be allowed to accumulate. These accounts would become part of the estate of the individual and could be passed on to heirs without fear of any death penalty. These plans should be particularly attractive to young people who are healthy and can afford high-deductible insurance plans. These funds can be used by any member of a family without penalty. The flexibility and security provided by HSAs will be of great benefit to all who participate.

I’m sorry. But do you know what I’ll be “passing on” to my “heirs?” A hot glue gun and a closet full of ripped clothing. Who the fuck even are you? Okay, so I did some research on this one. Health Savings Accounts were available under Obamacare too. HSA’s are high deductible health insurance plans with tax benefits. I’ve hit my deductible for the past couple of years, okay. Like, real quick. Do you know how expensive an MRI is? That’s beside the point, but anyway. HSA’s work in that once you hit that deductible, the insurance company starts paying. Then that money left in the HSA builds interest. And I’m asking myself…what LEFT OVER MONEY. What, you think there’s just left-over money hanging around after I pay for my Giant Metal Donut Exam (that’s what I call my MRI’s)?

Also: did you just say, “young people who are healthy who can afford…?” I SHOULD SMACK YOU. Okay, okay, so maybe it’s just me with the extensive list of medical problems and a net-worth of negative $76,000 dollars, but I mean are you serious? I know way too many young people who are not only in debt, but who are living without health care and just praying not to have anything wrong with them so that they don’t have to take out another loan or sell a kidney to take care (of that kidney).

That’s funny.

Selling a kidney to take care of a kidney.

Damn, I’m good.

And did someone say "death penalty?" Hey, man. Everyone's thinking it. You said it. 

All in favor of throwing our orange leader to the stocks say "I!"

5. Require price transparency from all healthcare providers, especially doctors and healthcare organizations like clinics and hospitals. Individuals should be able to shop to find the best prices for procedures, exams or any other medical-related procedure.

Hey, I like this one. I like shopping. Especially when it’s for shit that could keep me alive. I guess I just don’t see how this would really work.

Doctor: “Your next MRI is due. Here are your options, $25,000 from Images R Us, $23,500 from Donut Holes Inc, -”

Me: (checks wallet) “Nah, you know I think I’ll skip this year.”

6. Block-grant Medicaid to the states. Nearly every state already offers benefits beyond what is required in the current Medicaid structure. The state governments know their people best and can manage the administration of Medicaid far better without federal overhead. States will have the incentives to seek out and eliminate fraud, waste and abuse to preserve our precious resources.

This one? Oh, this one’s hilarious. You’d like to “seek out and eliminate fraud, waste and abuse” now, do yuh? Let’s start with you shall we- (rolls up sleeves, drags giant waste bin to White House).

Alright, alright. So I can’t throw the President of the United States in a trash can. But I really fucking want to.

I guess what scares me about this one is that states get to decide things. Isn’t this what leads to gay marriage being illegal just because a “state doesn’t want to?” States are kind of starting to sound like assholes to me. All I’m saying is, laws should be laws. I don’t like the idea of certain states opting out of something that’s right just because they feel like it.

And I’m sorry, but providing health care to people who need it is just the right thing to do.

7. Remove barriers to entry into free markets for drug providers that offer safe, reliable and cheaper products. Congress will need the courage to step away from the special interests and do what is right for America. Though the pharmaceutical industry is in the private sector, drug companies provide a public service. Allowing consumers access to imported, safe and dependable drugs from overseas will bring more options to consumers.

Hmm. This one’s interesting. Didn’t I just read in the paper this weekend that Mr. Trumpy thinks everyone is being a giant bully to U.S. trade? Didn’t I just read that Trump has already threatened to terminate NAFTA with Canada and Mexico and thinks that the World Trade Organization is biased? Isn’t he trying to get rid of all this foreign trade nonsense? But I mean hey, if I can get some sweet new brain pills from Singapore, let’s do this man. I’m all about it.

Listen, I don’t have the answers to this whole mess.

I’m just a brain damaged comedian looking for ways to survive in this world. And right now things are okay for me. My head isn’t bleeding anymore. I can see right-side up again. We’re all good over here.

But I’m scared.

I’m scared of what the Emergency Room will look like in the next few years. I’m scared of the fact that my own doctor didn’t want me to get medical imaging because it was too expensive. I’m scared that this triage method of care will kill thousands of people like me that look fine on the outside, but are in desperate need of a closer look.

Recently, Trump acknowledged that the requirement for all individuals to have insurance, or face a fine, is un-american. And while nobody likes being fined, this isn’t a business, okay? These are people’s fucking lives.

According to a press release by Senator Charles Schumer (D) today, “Trumpcare would be a cancer on the American health care system,” he says. “Unless you’re a healthy millionaire, Trumpcare is a nightmare.”

Our bodies are so supremely fragile. We need health care like we need breathing. This isn’t a choice to be left up to politicians anymore.

Please like, comment, and share this blog. Visit the links throughout this post. Start conversations with your colleagues. Call your Congressmen and women. Sign petitions. Riot. Kick and scream.

Fight for your own lives.

Because nobody else will.  

What I'll Miss About Teaching...And What I Won't

The cat’s out of the bag. Or more accurately, the pencils have scattered onto my carpet. The Cheetos have scrunched themselves all over my teaching desk. Whatever metaphor you choose, I’ve officially released the information:

I’m quitting my job as a high school teacher.

I decided this in September, a mere two months into the new school year. It was a painful realization.

I’d just ended a relationship and I was the biggest mess I’d ever been. I stumbled into the coffee shop to meet my best friend Kristen for our monthly writer’s group.

“I think I’m dying,” I said sobbing into a cup of coffee. “It’s over. My life is over. Everything is awful and I don’t know what to do,”

Kristen listened patiently as both of our coffees got cold. I explained to her my pain and anguish. I told her I choked on a muffin once on the way to work and thought I might die on the way to my shitty job.

That’s when it hit me.

Maybe I wasn’t just unhappy that I lost a loving relationship. Maybe I was also unhappy at my job.

It was the biggest light bulb to ever explode in my consciousness.

“But what am I supposed to do?” I asked her. “I can’t just quit,”

“Yes, you can,” she said. “You can quit.”

I don’t know why I needed her to say the words. But somehow I needed permission. I needed someone to tell me that it was okay if I didn’t want to be a teacher anymore.

I was becoming a martyr. Every single day I was losing more and more of myself to my career. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore.

And even scarier, I was good at hiding it.

When I told my students last week that I was leaving, they were shocked. Some gasped out loud. A few started tearing up. Many came to hug me at the end of class. One shouted from the back, “I bet she’s leaving because of us.”

Don’t flatter yourself, darling. This actually has nothing to do with you.

The news didn’t impact every kid. I still found a tiny penis made of clay on my computer keyboard. I still stepped in a wad of gum on my way out the door. The world hadn’t stopped existing because I’d said the words.

I have a lot of feelings about the past two and a half years of teaching. Some that make me laugh and many that keep me up at night. It’s hard to say right now if I’ll end up in a classroom again. I can’t say for sure where my life is taking me or what I’ll accomplish in this lifetime.

But I do know that there are a few things I’ll miss about this job. And a few things I won’t.

What I’ll Miss:

The look on a kid’s face when they finally get what I’ve been trying to teach them for the past hour.

What I Won’t Miss:

The fact that I’ve been repeating the directions to this assignment for the past hour and you just now are listening.

What I’ll Miss:

When a kid tells me that I am their favorite teacher.

What I Won’t Miss:

Realizing that I might be surrounded by some really incompetent teachers.

What I’ll Miss:

When a quiet kid in the back cracks a smile at that joke I just made.

What I Won’t Miss:

When half my class is on their cellphones and misses that joke I just made.

What I’ll Miss:

Finding surprise love notes from my children on my desk.

What I Won’t Miss:

Finding surprise hate emails from parents in my inbox.

What I’ll Miss:

My kids embracing my weirdness.

What I Won’t Miss:

Having to embrace the weirdness of telling a parent their kid can be kind of an asshole.

What I’ll Miss:

Seeing my sleepy 1st and 2nd period classes try to stay awake during a note taking day.

What I Won’t Miss:

Trying to stay awake during Profession Development meetings.

What I’ll Miss:

Wednesday’s after school with my Comedy Club.

What I Won’t Miss:

Not getting paid for all the cool shit I do after school.

What I’ll Miss:

Seeing my students participate in community building and volunteer work like a week to raise thousands of dollars to send a terminally ill 4-year-old to Disney World.

What I Won’t Miss:

Being told I have to buy my own paper to make copies for my students. And also that I’m not really allowed to use the copy machine in the first place.

What I’ll Miss:

When my students wave to me in the hallway, then whisper to their friends about how cool I am.

What I Won’t Miss:

When I get a pen from administration on Teacher Appreciation Day. Okay and some ice cream. That was nice I guess.

What I’ll Miss:

When my student’s remember to say “please” and “thank you” because I’ve taught them the value of being kind and respectful.

What I Won’t Miss:

When I tell people I’m a teacher and they treat me like I have cancer. Or when they tell me the education system is fucked up because of me.

What I’ll Miss:

When a kid writes something funny on their paper, or leaves me a cute drawing.

What I Won’t Miss:

The endless stream of grading papers that is so intense I have literally started grading papers in my dreams.

What I Won’t Miss:

Not having a social life for 10 months out of the year.

What I Won’t Miss:

Being told I don’t deserve to have Spring Break's, Christmas Break's, or Summer’s off.

What I Won’t Miss:

Spending thousands of dollars on school supplies for my students.

What I Won’t Miss:

Ripping literally EVERY nice article of clothing I have on a damn desk because my classroom is above capacity.

What I Won’t Miss:

People adding more and more students to my classes and then having to add more desks to my room for me to trip over.

What I Won’t Miss:

Spending several hours in a meeting that could have been an email.

What I Won’t Miss:

Passing out on the disgusting couch in the office throughout the school day because I am so tired.

What I Won’t Miss:

Other teachers telling me “not to be tired.”

What I Won’t Miss:

Bullshit tasks that measure my “effectiveness” as a teacher.

What I Won’t Miss:

STANDARDIZED TESTING, MOTHERFUCKERS.

What I Won’t Miss:

That one kid. That one motherfucking kid.

What I Will Miss:

The rest of my kids.

I could keep going. For ever and ever.

The truth of the matter is the only thing I’ve ever loved about this job is the kids. When I told them that, they gave me a round of applause. They supported me. They knew I would always love them. They asked if they could add me on Snapchat and Instagram at the end of the year. I said I would think about it.

It’s been the toughest choice of my life. After all, I’ve spent the past 20 years of my life thinking about and becoming a teacher. It’s hard to imagine my identity as anything else.

But I know that I have worth outside of my classroom.

As a writer, as a comedian, and as a creative force.

And I wouldn’t be any of those things without the experiences I’ve had as a teacher.

So maybe it’s not goodbye forever. Maybe I can simply close the door to my classroom and open a window and crawl in elsewhere.

And maybe in that place I won’t have to step in any more gum wads or Cheetos.