Toshiko Takaezu, my ceramics professor at Princeton, was terrifying.

I woke up one day weighing 203 lbs.

It gets worse. Routine tests clocked my A1C of 5.8 (hello pre-diabetes), and my inflammation markers were through the roof. My mind was foggy, and my body was falling apart.

In today’s Write the Ship class with @Nicolascole77 I got royally pissed off.

“Those Instagrammers don’t show you the truth about new motherhood. I obsessed about giving birth, but it’s just a few hours compared to everything else,” said my cousin.

How much wisdom can a small flightless bird can spew in an hour? You’d be surprised.

I turned the corner onto the subway platform.

A woman was just about to board when the doors slammed shut, inches from her face.

She was royally pissed off, judging by the torrent of swear words and her theatrical gestures.

The show went on until a homeless man sitting in the corner yelled out “Lady, trains are like men. Another one will come along.”