I spilled coffee on my plans

bloopers, un-done dishes, & craving salt

Today started like any other—except I spilled coffee all over my journal. I was planning the colors of an email marketing template. So now, instead of deciding whether pumpkin or aubergine is the color of the season, I’m deciding if I should go for a more coffee-stained look & call it “artisanal.”

Running a slow fashion brand teaches you patience—or, at least, it tries to. Sometimes, though, it feels like the universe is in on some cosmic joke where the punchline is me trying to keep up. I mean, I thought I had it all figured out. I lit one of my handmade candles to set the mood, hoping it would inspire some genius copy writing ideas. Spoiler: it didn’t. But the living room smelled great, and that’s half the battle.

Midday, I realized I’d been staring at my laptop screen for hours, pretending to work while really just thinking about what to order for lunch. That’s when it hit me—most of the pressure I feel is just me, stacking up tasks like a pile of laundry I always mean to get to, but never actually deal with.

The best part of the day? A customer’s voice note, thanking me for delivering her a candle bundle on short notice. It was a gift for her date & I’m assuming it went well!

It’s easy to forget good moments when you're up to your elbows in candle wax or contemplating the merits of sustainable zippers.

Life is topsy turvy, and not everything needs to be polished, perfect, or even done on time. The beauty for me is in letting the coffee stains dry and calling it character. The spill is part of the process. That’s where the fun and the wisdom lies. Or maybe I’m being lazy today.

a note on mess:

There’s a pile of dishes in the sink that’ll stare at you until you break. But not today. Today they can rot, stack up like messages from friends I’ve let slide. The world won’t end because of some dirty plates.

Tomorrow, I might get to them, or maybe not.

Feels good, in a way, to let the small things slip, to let them grow into a mountain that I’ll climb when I damn well feel like it. Maybe never.

Earth spins on, and so do I, leaving what can wait for a day that doesn’t belong to anyone but me. All days belong to me, but it doesn’t always feel like that.

Mo’s Magazine readership grows every single day! I’m so happy & increasingly curious.

Today’s essay makes me want to know 2 things about you.

1. What’s the most creatively disastrous thing that’s happened to you this week? Spill the beans!

2. What’s your go-to comfort food when you’re knee-deep feeling shitty? I ask because I resort to salt & processed food aka McDonalds & Blue Lays. (i knowww not the best, i’m trying to find alternate methods, but that’s an essay for another day)

PS: Feel free to share anything else you have on your mind. I’m always ears :)

PPS: I read somewhere that salt cravings can be our body's way of signaling that it needs more minerals or is dehydrated. Salt has been a treasured commodity throughout history. In ancient Rome, soldiers were paid in salt, a practice so valued it gave rise to the word “salary”!

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