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I've been grappling with a head cold, lost voice, and nagging dry cough the past week, which made me cancel classes over the weekend. I thought I was feeling better today, but I wheezed so much in class I had to take a break to get a cough drop, and even that couldn't save me. It was a miracle my students understood me at all.

I’m not sure how or why I lost my voice in the first place. My immune system is paper-thin to begin with, so my guess is that only getting four hours of sleep one night last week plus sleeping mouth open directly under the air conditioning unit was enough to unravel the threads. After that it was just a matter of me straining my voice over city noise and not wanting to cancel on plans to rest.

This isn't my first time losing my voice in the city. When I came here for vacation in 2022 (and 2023, maybe?) I lost it within a week both times, which makes me feel like it's something about New York and the way I push my body on vacation in particular. If i had to guess, raising my voice to be heard over the din of the city, poor air quality, and the physical strain of being on my feet all day conspire to turn me into the little mermaid again and again.

I've been doing a decent (if inconsistent) job of resting, at least once I figured out I had a serious problem on my hands. The only thing I really did this weekend outside of pantomiming my way through apartment tours was accompany my roommate to a food festival. There I listened to him make observations and responded the only way I could: nodding my head, pointing my finger, giving him the thumbs up. I realized that most of the dialogue that surfaced in my head and got stuck in my mouth amounted to nothing more than phatic expressions anyway. Maybe I should learn to cut these out when my voice returns. Would my friends notice? Find the change drastic? I can easily see them finding the silence deafening.

Canceling class on Sunday also freed me up to play in a soccer game, my first 'official' one since getting here. While it didn't do my physical state any good I have no regrets about the missed sleep. We didn't win, probably because I spurned some gilt-edged chances, but my friend who invited me scored a goal for the memory books, and everybody was kind and encouraging. Oh, how I've missed the pace of a competitive game and the joy of playing with strangers! I must have it again soon. I hope I get to play with them again and maybe I'll finally get around to looking at making a team once this cycle of classes ends.

True to my nature, I find myself again wanting what I can't have: all I can think about this week is how badly I want to sing. Someone asked me if I had a song stuck in my head on Sunday. Boy do I have a song for you. I can't wait to get my hands on a piano when my vocal cords get back from vacation.

I am rolling in my grave.

My first one! Everyone loves banana milk, but it tastes like liquid banana Laffy Taffy, which everyone loves to hate on. Make it make sense, please.

Back in college my friends and I would do things like leave amusement parks early to grocery shop and make healthy dinners together back at home. We're turning into our parents, we'd say, laughing, the irony of a bunch of teenagers complaining about getting old not lost on us. And I think for as much as I enjoyed a quiet night in with friends cooking and cleaning, I could always feel a part of me resisting, unwilling to let go of the crazy irresponsible hooligan inside which may not have ever even existed.

I think I've grown more at peace with the idea that I'll never have the wild years of a "misspent youth," as one of my old coworkers liked to say, that they're not for me. And with that acknowledgement I can more wholeheartedly appreciate how much easier it is for me to find joy in the smaller things. Yesterday while grocery shopping I bought a cauliflower for the first time, a vegetable I've always loved but never bothered to cook on my own because I hate getting the bits everywhere while cutting. I tried recreating one of my favorite NYC meals, Miznon's whole roasted baby cauliflower.

Predictably, it didn't quite go to plan. The cauliflower I bought was too big for my largest pot, which meant I had to keep turning it in the boiling water with tongs, and half an hour in the oven at 450 wasn't long enough for it to char. But I'm happy to say it still turned out delicious. I'm going back to the supermarket soon to buy another one (smaller, this time) to try again. Maybe this time it'll turn out better.

Have you ever paid attention to how beautiful a cauliflower is? The pattern of the little florets in the center is mesmerizing.