Sometime in the last fall, in a fit of weird nostalgia, I signed up to get emailed every day with a reminder of what I posted on Facebook one year earlier.
So I get a lot of emails with status updates about finishing papers, photos of my dog, and nonsequiters about TV. There is something so sad, so far away seeming about my life just one year ago. Like, "look at that stupid girl, she's got no fucking clue."
I got one of these emails this morning, after a very rough night.
It did not have a status update that said "I shouldn't have gotten out of bed today."
There was no comment about the qualities my shaved head shares with Velcro.
Not a picture of my little cat, who we sped to the veterinary emergency room after midnight, thinking we might lose her on the way.
There was no running count of how many times and in how many doctors' offices I heard the word "oncology."
Instead, in the email there was this picture of my sister and me, and a status update about artisanal chocolates.
That was last year.
Getting this reminder of my old life sometimes feels like self flagellation. But other times it's something to strive for, to return to, or find anew.