Tomorrow is our second to last “Drop-In Tuesday” a FREE hour-long mini-craft class for all subscribers. Don’t forget to sign up! Last week, we chatted about Natalie Lima’s master class of a flash essay, “Snowbound.”

I broke down how the multi-layered way Natalie uses seasons adds depth and richness to an essay that clocks in at slightly more than 700 words.

Even though I don’t personally write flash — not yet at least! – there’s so much to learn from this genre about how to do a lot with a little that can be particularly helpful when writing a lengthier essay. Got an essay that lags on the intro? Rambles at the end? Is loose-y goose-y in the middle? Applying what you learn from reading flash pieces can help tighten up those problem areas.

And yes, to the surprise of likely no one, I am a Capricorn (although, often when people meet me they guess wrong because I’m so “bubbly” — I hate being described as bubbly).

Now, let’s be clear, I’m a January Capricorn, because there’s a difference lol. We’re a little less rigid, a little more charismatic, but no less locked-in on our goals. We’re life’s metaphorical spoonful of sugar.

Although having a winter birthday, especially one a few day’s after New Year’s Eve when everyone’s all partied out and poor, isn’t very much fun, I’ve always appreciated that I begin a new age and new year of life at the same time. It feels… tidy. And I like tidy.

I’ll be spending the next two weeks reflecting on 2025 (Yeesh.) and being 40 (Eep.) with grand hopes and dreams for 2026 (it’s 1 a year!) and 41 (Also… a 1 year…?).

I spent so much of these past few months rebounding emotionally (and trying to hold it together financially) from the loss of a job, that honestly, I should have left much sooner, but didn’t because I was worried about my bills in a city that’s 2x as expensive as my last one and my healthcare as a woman who racked up mammogram and derm bills and has to live under the uncertain healthcare access of this current administration.

But… I’m okay…? A while ago, I wrote on a sticky note, “The hard part hasn’t even come yet.”

And what I meant by this was that I was spending a lot of time fretting about the terrible things that come with long-term unemployment (which I suspected was in store for me given the state of the job market and the more than 350K other Black women who were pushed out of employment this year…) like not being able to pay your rent or take care of yourself.

But my rent is paid and my fridge is full and I’m not at immediate risk of either of those things not being true — so why panic now? A lot can change over the course of a few months. And has.

One-on-one clients found me, my newsletter more than doubled its paid subscribers, editors tapped me for pieces and freelance clients sought me out. Friends invited me to speak to their classes and other friends hired me for little tasks they knew fell within my skillset. And people continued to check in on me and invite me places so I didn’t have to feel like I’d fallen out of the loop of common society just because I wasn’t earning a wage.

I still have no idea what the future holds for me as far as employment goes and what I’m pulling in freelancing is no where near replacing the income I lost but I’m feeling more optimistic that I can figure things out before my savings runs out.

The tiny text of that sticky note says,

When you’re toughing it out through some turbulent times, the instinct is to hunker down and hold tight until it passes. There’s no room for risk taking. But is that always the right move? When am I going to have time to explore, play and experiment with what I want my life to look like, if not now when I suddenly have 40 hours every week freed up?

My friend Ivana and Writing For Fakers loyalist, said in a DM back in August, “Unknowns and uncertainties you can do something with. Dreading your job kills your spirit.”

She’s right. Heading into my sixth month of unemployment, my spirit is more alive and vibrant than it’s been in a long-time (which is a hard statement for a Capricorn to make when their bank account ain’t matching the energy!).

I hate to look foolish publicly. I hate for my life to appear or be anything other than tidy. But this year, I’ve just had to be the mess that 2025 insists on.

I decided to use all the energy I was letting my outsize worries consume and put it towards creating. This newsletter. The Mail Club. My next book. Collaging. Cooking. So at least, if I end up somebody’s payroll again, I can look back on this time of unfettered freedom and not feel as if I squandered it.

Hop into the comments and let me know what you’re happy to leave behind in 2025 and what you hope to bring into 2026.

— Minda