My work is a 15-minute walk from the steps of the Capitol in Sacramento, California, and when I went to work as an essential employee April 20, I didn’t expect for the Reopen California protests happening that day to make
I have this one regular customer who’s been on my mind today. Prior to the coronavirus, prior to the shelter-in-place order, he may or may not have left a tip when he came in to my coffee shop—I, honestly, have
I went grocery shopping today, which, historically, has been an easy task—go from point A to point B, purchase goods, return to point A—but it seems to get more and more difficult as time goes on. My wife was diagnosed
My grandfather passed away in December of 2019. He was one month shy of 96. I was named after him, in a way—while he was born Alexander Christopher, and I gladly carry on his middle name, everyone called him Punch.
In 2016, I fell ill with a mystery ailment that, to this day, doctors have never been fully able to understand. The primary symptom was jamais vu, which is sort of yin to déjà vu‘s yang—instead of the foreign feeling
(Originally written on September 2, 2014) This month is the beginning of a very full life for me; tomorrow, I start working on my Master’s degree. On top of working two jobs, full time graduate school is daunting. For weeks,