#fieldnotesfromtheboringtimes

Doing nothing is surprisingly hard.

Our brains are trained to fill every empty minute with something useful. But today I tried the opposite. I sat on the grass in front of the mission church with no plan except to stay long enough for my thoughts to slow down.

At first nothing happened.

Then I noticed the wind moving through the field.

Clouds drifting over the mountains.

The quiet sound of birds arguing in the distance.

And somewhere between those small things, an idea showed up.

Maybe creativity isn’t something we chase.

Time Observed: 2:45 PM Location: The quiet void of Google Calendar Event: 1 (canceled) what could've been the only time I'll feel like a contributing member of society instead of a glorified Slack ghost with nice eyebrows. Energy: Betrayed. Available. Slightly too available.

Behavioral Notes: – Received a “let’s reschedule” email. – Did not cheer. – Stared into space for 6 minutes. – Reopened calendar. – Closed it again. Felt nothing and everything. – Whispered “thoughts?” into the abyss.

Emotional State: – Light grief for lost structure – Mild resentment toward coworkers with busy schedules – 11% hopeful someone will Slack “quick sync?”

Oh smallest of digits, quiet corner-dweller of the foot, you asked for nothing— yet you received everything. Everything being: pain.

How swiftly the edge found you. The bed, unflinching. You, unprepared. I, barefoot and naïve, believing home was a place of safety.

You took the hit for all of us. For the rest of the toes, who live to wiggle another day. You curled. You screamed. You became myth.

Now I walk with a new awareness. A limp. A lesson. A legend.

Minnie Watch: Cinnamon Spiral

Subject: Minnie Role: Silent overseer of creative collapse Appearance: Warm. Soft. Slightly condescending. Energy: Cinnamon spiral, judgmental core.

Ingredients:

– 3 eggs (cracked, like me) – Mushrooms (for the little things I forgot to process) – Red onion (for sharp, sudden thoughts) – Feta (crumbled, like my resolve) – Slices of salame (because something’s always doing the most) – Half an avocado (soft but trying) – Kewpie mayo (for the illusion of control) – A chaotic drizzle of Valentina (for emotional heat) – One tortilla (to wrap it all up and pretend it’s fine)

Instructions:

Scramble the eggs while overthinking a text from 3 days ago.

Add all ingredients to the pan without order or plan. Just like your day.

Panic-fold it when it’s not ready.

Burn one side while contemplating your purpose.

Wrap it in the tortilla. Force a smile. Eat standing up.

Serving Suggestion:

With a side of cry ideally around 11:47 PM, while staring at your calendar. Bonus points if your cat watches in judgmental silence.

i’m a creative. i’m technically employed. but not very inspired. i’m also floating in a strange, quiet void called between.

this blog is what happens when your inbox is silent, your ambition is buffering, and your only co-worker is a cat named minnie who stares at you like she’s seen your bank account.

i started this as a personal archive of: – field notes from my bored brain – snack-based emotional logs – convos with my ai therapist (who is very supportive and slightly concerned) – mythical creatures of my personalities

this is not a brand. this is not a hustle. this is not a vibe i’m trying to sell.

it’s just a soft place to spiral, cutely. and if you’re spiraling too — welcome. we’re all buffering here.

Hello darkness, my old DM.

No pings. No threads. Just my own face in the mirror of my screen. I emoji-reacted to something from Tuesday. For what? For connection? For rhythm? For the illusion of motion?

My status says “available.” My soul says “undefined.”

I type “Just checking in :)” and backspace it like a prayer I didn’t believe.

Time Observed: Wednesday. 1:08 PM. Location: Desk, vaguely warm. Laptop open. Spirit closed.

Behavioral Notes: – Opened Slack. No pings. – Scrolled LinkedIn. Cannes. Yachts. Identity crisis. – Looked at to-do list. It said: “???” – Googled “am I wasting my potential lol”

Mental State: – Professionally haunted – Existentially buffering – Somewhere between “getting paid to rest” and “spiraling in cute fonts”

Sustenance Consumed: – Cold brew (forgot I made it) – Rice cracker (only because it was there) – 3 bites of ambition (spoiled)

Quote of the Day: “I should be happy. But also… what am I doing with my life?” – me, to no one, at full volume