What's IN/OUT this week

This was a big week for putting things off. I wouldn’t say I’ve felt burned out, but more like I haven’t been able to light the wick in the first place. I’m stopping this well short of making a candle in the wind reference.

IN: A local apple. I love to save a buck (important, when you consider grocery prices in Chicago have grown by double digits in the last year), but we’ve started to splurge on a weekly CSA box. Sometimes, mid-winter, you forget how great a really good piece of produce can be. I even bit into a carrot yesterday from last week’s haul that made me say, Whoa. Incredible what the 22nd month of winter can make you appreciate. OUT: Getting poke at the ramen place. Or fish at the burger place. I’ve made this mistake so many times and I continue to never learn my lesson. Always order what the restaurant does well, even if you’re “not in the mood” for it. The ramen chef is just not going to give my bowl of raw fish the same level of care and devotion that he is giving that garlic miso broth.

IN: Dancing. I have much more to say about this, but I have been dancing a LOT. An enormous amount of credit goes to Dave, who cannot stop himself from spinning around the living room to Culture Club. Last night he even whipped out old videos of Club MTV to see if he could sort out the moves to Rhythm Nation. OUT: The same old hits. I’m keeping an ear out for some new dance tunes. Lucky for us, the godmothers of horny music — Peaches and Robyn — are giving us fresh albums. Do yourself a favor and listen to this Jamie xx remix of Robyn’s “Dopamine.”

IN: Returning for the item. I’m planning to run some errands this afternoon, and that includes going back for a fantastic gold lamé clutch I saw at a second-hand shop. I am praying it’s still there, but glad I gave myself the time to ponder on whether I really want it. This is mindful shopping; this is growth. That said, if the clutch is not there I will commit a felony. OUT: Putting things off too much. I have a couple of clothing items that I desperately need to get altered. For whatever reason, this task has felt like an insurmountable challenge. Imagine the life I could be leading once I get those Adidas track pants hemmed. All Day I Dream About Seamstresses.

IN: Guys being dudes. Obviously with men’s most repugnant behavior on full display via the Epstein files, it’s tough to get psyched about Guys Hanging Out. But when they’re not power-consumed monsters, they really need their time together so they can play poker, eat tacos, rag on one another, and discuss which of their meds are making them bloaties. The first step in solving the male loneliness epidemic is a great onion dip. OUT: Being one of the guys. I’m heading out of town with the ladies for the weekend — those boys’ nights are none of my business! (I hope they have a dance party.)

Tell me what you hated this week!