Jessica McFarland

This evening, I couldn’t get inspired. I stared at the blank TextEdit window, and nothing came. Words, music, ideas-all eluded me. All the meaning and glory of the universe drifted aimlessly through the air, past me, on its way to a trendier post code. So I…

…started cleaning. I didn’t want to. I had been putting it off for days. But I put on my 80s playlist and went to it. I vacuumed the hair (I shed like a cat) and grit off of the hardwood floors. I ironed my skirts (I can do this without mishap now). I put the bath mats in the laundry. I put my Oyster card and house keys next to the door to avoid morning panic. (more…)

Astrology isn’t an actual science (that’s astronomy, in case you’re already confused). I know this.

The position of the stars on the particular Thursday in September on which I entered the world is not responsible for my personality, work relationships, or love life. Furthermore, the position of the planets at this very moment has nothing to do with my current mood, unless I’m somehow angry at Jupiter for being too, I dunno, gaseous. (Incidentally, ‘dunno’ is in the dictionary as a contraction of ‘ (I) do not know’, originating in the mid 19th century, not the late 20th, as I believed up until now. But there, you see, I’ve become distracted. Damn you, Jupiter!)

Where was I?

Right. Astrology. Bogus.

But I know there’s part of me that wishes it wasn’t.
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