The Musings of a Latte Queen: Narratives of Everyday Life

 My husband told me a long time ago that my story is my pearl and not everyone deserves them. My son told me that it is time, Ma, to write that story. I've been contemplating my life, maybe it is the brush with a recent health situation of getting older and creaking knees, that has me thinking about the non-renewable resource of time. "I have more years behind me than in front of me, " was something my late father said to me when I was flew back home to visit him when I was in my thirties and filled with hope and possibility. "Nah, Dad, you will be around for a while." Little did I know that he was battling as blood cancer that hadn't been diagnosed until a few months later that would take his life six months after that. Daddy wrote and all that he wrote is lost to the moves and hands of those who cared more about themselves than his legacy. His brilliance whispered away with his last breath. Perhaps it is the Twilight Zone of Covid that has me exploring the...

 There is a crippling fear that has gripped the heart and soul of people. Covid 19 is still raging, many are dying in hospitals because they listened to folks who populated myths of what was in the vaccine, glorified snake oil salesmen while they and their families were not only vaccinated, but receiving monoclonal antibodies when some of them got Covid in the early days. The jobs report came out and again, this fear of not enough is pervading the land, mostly written about with the top 1% of the 1% in mind, afraid of their stock market returns, but not afraid enough to listen to the cries of the workers kept in the endless wheel of capitalism. The stage hands walked off the jobs. Restaurant workers said $2.13 per hour plus tips that may not come was not enough. Cereal factory workers stopped. So many stopped. Stopped being afraid. Took back pieces of their own power. I woke up thinking about that on this October 11th day that is Indigenous Peoples' Day. A day when the mail is not ...

I was watching a re-run of Grey's Anatomy yesterday afternoon, in that lull of my day from when I had already written what I wanted to write and when it was time to pick up my daughter. "Meredith" was having a heated discussion with "Derick" about his impending opportunity with the NIH that would cause them to move from Seattle to Washington. D.C. I was a "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunity for him and would cause a severe pause in her career. He told her she could just be a surgeon at the Georgetown Hospital. She was in the middle of cutting edge research at Grey-Sloan Memorial. They had small children and well, she had envisioned her life there in Seattle. She mentioned the "trailing spouse syndrome" and that if she left and went to D.C., that she would always be in his shadow and would never get her career chance. She also commented that he had already had his heightened moments, that he didn't need another win, but she needed her shot.  ...