Find a hobby
There comes a time in every anxious, grown-ass woman's life when her therapist tells her that she really needs to find a hobby besides taking her blind, deaf, and anosmic should-be toddler to various medical appointments. Apparently, googling the adjectival form of anosmia is also not a valid hobby. When pressed further about my hobbies, all I can come up with is watching YouTube videos of outraged people reacting to other YouTube videos made by outraged fat activists while I try not to think about how many croissants I ate today. There we go, I found a hobby--binge eating! I suppose that's not my only hobby. Another thing I do when I'm trying not to dry heave from imagining my daughter existing in a never-ending sensory deprivation chamber without even a memory of sensations besides touch to look back on is listen to 75% of an Italian podcast on history. I don't mean that I stop the podcast with 25% of it left to go, I just mean that I only understand 75%. Unfortunate