Look, I don’t know what happened. One day the pandemic was pushing me to be better, pushing me to reflect and refine anything that needed my attention, and I was absent of excuses as to why I was or wasn’t writing poorly, or at all. And then all of a sudden, it became the opposite.

My therapist says it might be depression. I say, “That’s show business baby!” (If you see this, T, I’m kidding.)

But here I am.

I honestly don’t know how long it’s been. I’m too scared to check. I know it was probably sometime before school started. I do remember WHAT I posted, though . And I remember that I posted it and I hated it and that I never want to read it again. (I’ll probably hate read it right after I finish writing this. Or now… I read it. Still hate it. Also, I was right. August was the last time.)

I haven’t stopped writing all together. In fact, I’ve been writing more, and that’s part of the problem. I’ve been focusing so much on my bigger projects, specifically a book and a screenplay (because I don’t know how to not spread myself thin), as well as just trying to graduate high school, that I literally forgot I had a blog until I opened my computer and saw the bookmarked tab.

Last semester I tried juggling a job and school and quickly learned that I was incapable of it (mostly because I didn’t try that hard to succeed at either). But I was so stubborn that I failed at both anyways, and it almost cost me my first semester of Senior year. Stupid.

Back to the point.

It’s been forever since I’ve posted something that I wrote, and I’m kind of scared to post this. But I paid for the account and I’ve already wasted five months of it. Writing that sentence made me incredibly angry at myself. FIVE MONTHS?

ANYWAYS.

I’m posting today because it’s raining in California and I like the sound it makes against the roof and the windows. I like the way the thunder scares me, because I’m waiting for it to get big enough to shake the house again. I like the way it smells because the dirt and the trees and the bushes outside are getting the best treat they’ll get for a while, and they’ll treasure it too, because they know that they’re in California and that in California, rain is a treat.

And while there’s a lot of other people I could’ve told, I wanted to tell the blog. So, hello. It’s raining in California and I like the sound it makes against the roof and the windows. I like the way the thunder scares me, because I’m waiting for it to get big enough to shake the house again. I like the way it smells because the dirt and the trees and the bushes outside are getting the best treat they’ll get for a while, and they’ll treasure it too, because they know that they’re in California and that in California, rain is a treat.

I’m also posting because as someone who lives in California, it’s my job to make sure that everyone in California and around the world knows that it’s raining. So. I wanted to let you know. Whoever or wherever you are.

It’s raining in California.

(P.S. I’ve dyed my hair three different colors since I last wrote you, and right now it’s a mermaid blue. So, expect a lot of stories about girls with mermaid blue hair, fairy purple hair, and witch white hair. They’re all women I’ve dreamt up to be the best version of what I’d like my future to look like. Enjoy the rain!)