Sam’s Month

by Samantha Hackett

Cups of coffee: 64. Within: two spoonfuls of sugar. Of those 128 spoonfuls of sugar, 42 we may classify as heaping. No cream or oat milk or anything like that. “Black as night, strong as hate, sweet as love.”

Weight of fingernails chewed and spat into Kleenex: impossible to quantify. 

Sketches of Anne made in her Moleskine journal: only four, one a week. 

Remainder of Moleskine journal: diary entries (half-starts); a list of girlfriends and boyfriends from the last decade, ranked; lists of books she wants to read; poems she doesn’t commit to; blank pages. 

Number of attempts to read Sally Rooney’s new book: three.

Number of attempts to read Elif Bautman’s new book: one.

Number of attempts to reread the recently deceased Joan Didion: one.

Number of seasons of The Crown watched: four, 10 episodes per season.

Number of times she felt guilty for watching a TV show about the stupid Monarchy instead of reading the above books: impossible to quantify. 

Pounds of food eaten: 46.297075.

Excuses for her behavior made: 17.

Number of times she unlocked her phone hoping for a text message from Anne: impossible to quantify. 

Declarations to self that this is stupid and she’s too old to be this stupid: two. 

Resolutions to move on, to go out and see friends and maybe let one of them set her up (“The best way to get over someone is to get under someone”): one. 

Attempts at socializing: one.

Realizations that she’s somewhat performing and that she’s not really that upset that it’s over, that she’s actually kind of happy to be alone again even if she’s not doing anything but being a bum and watching The Crown: one. 

Number of times she sprawled in the bed and felt free: 30.