Post-work unwind.

I think there is something cathartic about yapping. And I don't mean it in a "talking about it reduces the weight" kind of way. I mean yapping about even the smallest things in your life. Your bottle fell down on its own in the middle of the night? Story time. You saw someone slip and fall? Story time. You watched a movie you loved? Story time.

All my usually very validating parent-teacher meetings always led to the same "but": she's just too talkative. I've had all sorts of punishments for yapping with the person next to me. I've tried really hard to stop talking and be mysterious and cool, but it's physically impossible for me to not drop an anecdote to my fellow 10-year-old classmate when her fancy pencil case breaks.

But looking back, I'm glad I was never able to stop. The more I yap, the more cinematically I narrate the silliest of my experiences, the less serious life becomes, the more these unserious stories get etched in my memory, the more life feels like a comedy, and the easier it becomes to just live.

In that sense, words are my refuge. Life can never leave me speechless. Even if the world burns my house down, I'll still yap about the nail-polish-stained tile that's left in the rubble. Because sure, the house burned down, buttt you know how all that nail polish got there? Let me tell you.