My ballot has been accepted. First, my to-do list included, “Request mail-in ballot.” Then it was, “Check that ballot arrived.” Then, “Fill out ballot and return to polling box.” And finally, “Check if ballot has been accepted.”

In Maryland, you can track your ballot. And it was a sigh of relief when I knew it arrived and was accepted and counted.

I like to go to the polls on voting day—I’m not even a vote early kind of girl—but it made no sense to ask poll workers to risk their lives for me so I could be there in person when there is a perfectly acceptable alternative. So I voted from home, and now there is nothing to do except wait and worry.

I am worried about the results. I am worried about what comes next. I am just worried. Full stop.

*******

Stop procrastinating. Go make your backups. Don’t have regrets.

Seriously. Stop what you’re doing for a moment. It will take you fifteen minutes, tops. But you will have peace of mind for days and days. It’s the gift to yourself that keeps on giving.

As always, add any new thoughts to the Friday Backup post and peruse new comments in order to find out about methods, plug-ins, and devices that help you quickly back up your data and accounts.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week. In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “Two Weeks and Then Some” (Chasing the Gerber Dragon)
• “Schrödinger’s Happiness” (Stirrup Queens)—thanks, Jess!

Okay, now my choices this week.

Jewish IVF sums up how I feel. Exactly. Drained is the perfect word. “I definitely feel mentally and emotionally drained. Feeling like fewer people are taking the pandemic seriously, even while numbers continue to rise, is draining. The political climate is draining. The state of the world — nay, the UNIVERSE (hello asteroid) — is draining. Will it ever feel like the sky isn’t falling?” Yes. To all of it.

Infertile Phoenix recounts two separate moments of… oof. For lack of a better word, I leave you with a sound. She begins by pointing out: “I refuse to explain anything to satisfy someone’s fleeting questions about my personal life and trauma. It took me years to get where I am today physically, emotionally, spiritually, socially, and geographically. Why should I and how could I possibly satiate their curiosity in five to ten minutes?” And then goes into two things said to her recently. You completely understand why she needs to set those boundaries in place. And I love this: “I don’t like it when people don’t let me have my ending to my own story.”

Lastly, speaking of “oof” moments (there’s that sound again!), Hopelessly Infertile and Surrounded by Fertiles recounts an exchange with a kid, who inadvertently presses against an emotional bruise. It’s a short post with a profound ending on the perspective of aloneness.

The roundup to the Roundup: Worried about the election. Your weekly backup nudge. And lots of great posts to read. So what did you find this week? Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between October 16 – October 23) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week? Read the original open thread post here.

I love love love love love (yes, I need to write it five times) this article in the Guardian, summarizing a lifetime of lessons learned from writing a column about happiness. The writer states: “These are the principles that surfaced again and again, and that now seem to me most useful for navigating times as baffling and stress-inducing as ours.”

It is an incredibly helpful list. These nuggets of wisdom spoke to me:

In regards to the idea that there isn’t enough time to do everything you want to do each day: “The only viable solution is to make a shift: from a life spent trying not to neglect anything, to one spent proactively and consciously choosing what to neglect, in favour of what matters most.” Yes.

Also: “The capacity to tolerate minor discomfort is a superpower.” The whole paragraph attached to this is a brilliant statement on how much we do to avoid something uncomfortable, which is something we can deal with because that’s the whole point of minor discomfort—it’s minor.

And this, right now. This statement is getting me through the right-now: “The spiritual teacher Jiddu Krishnamurti said his secret was simple: ‘I don’t mind what happens.’ That needn’t mean not trying to make life better, for yourself or others. It just means not living each day anxiously braced to see if things work out as you hoped.” What is outside our control is outside our control. Fretting about things is not action.

What spoke to you in the article?

Adrienne LaFrance (from The Atlantic) asked on Twitter: “What’s the first magazine you ever loved?” What follows is a long list of magazines—some still operating, some defunct—that is an amazing stroll down memory lane.

It reminded me that Mad magazine was my elementary school crush. I wanted a subscription so badly, but I felt awkward asking for it because I also had to have my sister explain a lot of the jokes in it. Our dentist had it at his office, and that was the pure joy of going to the dentist—time in the waiting room trying to fold in the back picture, creased by so many prior patients.

But my first true love, my first mature magazine relationship, was Sassy magazine. I started reading it with the first issue (purchased at People’s drug on the lower level of the mall), and I kept reading it long after I left the demographic. At some point, my mother made me cull my collection and only keep the most important articles. I still have them today.

That magazine was incredible. I wish girls today had Sassy. It was truly a life-changing, empowering, mind-expanding paper companion.

What was your first favourite magazine?

Not sure what #MicroblogMondays is? Read the inaugural post which explains the idea and how you can participate too.

*******

I know the answer will be “nothing” for some people. They don’t reread books at all. Life is short, books are plentiful. Why reread a book instead of moving to a new one?

But as a rereader—Handmaid’s Tale, the Magicians trilogy, anything Tolkein, all of the Narnia books, the Phantom Tollbooth—I really liked this take on it: “Would you not go back to a place you loved because you’d been there once or never visit a friend because you thought you knew them? My most beloved places and people are those most familiar to me. Why would it be different with books? So, at this moment in a strange, devastating year, one that calls for the comfort of escape, I’ve compiled a list of my top rereads.”

Yes. Because it’s comforting. Because it feels good to revisit a story, just it feels good to return to a place or visit an old friend.

Which books do you reread? And if none, are you moved to reopen one after reading that quote?

*******

Are you also doing #MicroblogMondays? Add your link below. The list will be open until Tuesday morning. Link to the post itself, not your blog URL. (Don’t know what that means? Please read the three rules on this post to understand the difference between a permalink to a post and a blog’s main URL.) Only personal blogs can be added to the list. I will remove any posts that are connected to businesses or are sponsored post.

Do you remember years ago—like I’m talking YEARS ago (it was back in 2007)—that we had a candy exchange in the ALI community? We had a form that people filled out stating where they were from and the common candies found in their neck of the woods. And then they could request a certain type of candy that they had heard about or a country they were curious about. And then everyone matched and sent each other candy. I have zero memory of who got my candy. I think mine was sent by someone in Australia.

I read an article about snack pen pals, and how people are grabbing friends on distant shores and trading boxes of snack foods. Because this is so true:

Back when traveling was a thing, supermarket snacks were undoubtedly a must-have souvenir. I’d always make a point to visit at least one grocery or convenience store during any trip, and then spend any leftover foreign cash on candy and junk food at airport stalls.

Online shopping has eliminated the same need that drove the original candy exchange. If I want to get the kids a box of Nutella B-readys, I don’t have to fly to France or have someone send us a box. I can go online and easily find them for sale. So that has killed some of the excitement around a snack exchange or candy exchange.

But it’s the surprise of ending up with something you didn’t know about; something you would have found if you had traveled and gone to the supermarket yourself in a foreign country. Plus the joy of a random box of treats popping up. Plus, your friend knows your tastes and limitations—we keep kosher, so we count on friends who send us stuff to know the ins and outs of kashrut.

So I kinda sorta love this idea, especially if you have friends around the world.