In which my squad won’t give me goals.

Email to Friend: “The therapist asked me to write about my accomplishments this year, and goals for the upcoming year and beyond. I’ve been struggling with it because I genuinely can’t think of much. (I assume ‘Keep breathing’ and ‘Stay employed’ are implied. Maybe ‘Don’t sleep with anyone dumber than me?’)

“But I’m finishing Judy Greer’s book, and coincidentally she’s talking about how she has an always-evolving list of goals, what’s important to her, etc., that she reads and revises as needed.

“And then Kelly Sue DeConnick sent this text yesterday to the Bitches Get Shit Done list, so it’s pretty much law now, right? List ahoy, Little Shark!”  

Friend: “I can think of at least three things you should be proud of yourself for, but I’m not telling you because you have to look back and be proud of yourself. You have to look in the mirror and see the good.”

Me: “THREE?! Shit. I’m pretty rad. (I think I had two. Will continue considering.)”