Day 391.

Day 390.

Best. Picture. Ever.

Ayana doing her best Black Bean impression.

Day 389.

It's the kinda evening in which I'm a bit run-down from all the living and running and working and loving and partying and writing and thinking and talking, yeah? It's the kind of evening in which I am setting good boundaries and asking for what I want and noticing that my gut feels heavy because I haven't exercised in a few days, and I know that's not good for me. It's the kinda evening in which I wish I could just check out and turn on a movie but my heart and my brain are working working working running pumping on a hamster wheel.

I'm drawing pie charts representing the most ridiculous things, on construction paper.

Day 388.

Day 387.

A for-real for-real for-real ponytail, a quick indicator of real progress, on this journey of extreme vanity and/or boredom.

Day 386.

An exhalation. One that made a sound.

Day 385.

My collective! BibiSF. Missing one super-notable person, our beloved Rostam, who joined us remotely this evening. I hella love these folks.

Day 384.

Maybe this is my new favorite shirt. I don't know.

Day 383.

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain." - Kahlil Gibran

Day 382.

So tired! Have been doing waaaay too much lately.

Day 381.

Puffy morning face.

Day 380.

Hey, Shadia! It was great to see you last night!








(A special note for a friend who I know has these delivered to her inbox every day.)

Day 379.

Oh, look. An expression.

Day 378.

Day 377.

My heart is simultaneously heavy and light. My lungs are working out a bunch of junk. I choose to look at this as some sort of metaphor.

Day 376.

My lungs, my poor lungs. Trying so hard to push something out while pulling oxygen in. Breaths are short. Heart is hurting, too, just adjacent. Everything is tight in there. I discovered that a bout of sobbing brought on by the end of a terrible rom-com about ballroom dancing, followed by a hot shower, is a great way to get a bunch of mucus out of my body. Happy Valentine's Day.

Day 375.

So sick. Been sleeping all day. Fever, body aches, coughing, sneezing, shortness of breath. Lungs mad at me, trying to take a break. Grogginess.

Was feeling uncared for, a bit. My boss insinuated that I was faking yesterday when I went into work and realized that I was actually way too sick to be there. I freaked out and started crying. I know I have been getting sick a lot, but I didn't do it on purpose and I'm not faking, for crying out loud. I was pissed. Then I went on to work all day, which did me no favors. It was officially the worst work day I've ever had there.

Day 374.

I keep getting sick. What is my body telling me?

Day 373.

Day 372.

Day 371.

Day 370.

Day 369.

Day 368.

A Freakout Day in the Life of Mahfam:

Inner Voice: I think I am having a bit of a freakout.
Voice of Love: Oh, sweetheart. What are you freaking out about?

Day 367.

Day 366.

Favorite new question to ask people when greeting one another and I really really want to know what's up (which is quite often): "How's your heart?"

My own answer to that question today, when asked by a friend: "My heart is breaking open over and over again like an ever-blooming flower."

Day 365.

It's been a year, and all I've got for you today is this! See you tomorrow.

Day 364.

Day 363.