It’s the last day of May. Can we call this me being oppositionally punctual? A groundhog who eats its tail to spite its nose. Do groundhogs even have tails? I thought the weeds in my yard were frothing at the mouth, but turns out, it’s the seasonal descent of froghopper spittlebugs, who hide in clouds of their own suds during feedings. Sounds about right. These days, it’s hard to not feel like a poorly executed decoupage made from scraps of old t-shirts and trashy magazines you’ve tried to purge your house of over the course of the past few months, part of a larger goal to be both simpler and more extravagantly creative, inspired by a Zoom tutorial you took with your friends to support a local artist and stay connected with your community. A woman in a podcast I’ve become reliant on says she misses the profile of a face, a person's texture and form. It made me stop what I was doing and cry. One day, we’ll emerge from the sudsy foam of our organized homes, rub our screen-fried eyes, and meet for a drink…maybe it’ll be at a Burnmix barbeque, and it’s a cold beer someone hands you and you take without thought. Until then, we’ll always have the music.

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