Today’s Co–Star said:
Believe that it is all possible.
And underneath that:
Those abandoned projects weren’t failures—just premature attempts.
I liked that.
Because maybe some things don’t fail.
Maybe sometimes I just try them at the wrong time
Maybe I’m not ready yet.
Maybe the situation isn’t ready yet.
Maybe the obstacle is real, but temporary.
And maybe “I couldn’t do it then” doesn’t automatically mean “I can’t do it now.”
That felt like a nice way to start the day.
But before today really started, there was one thing from last night I wanted to keep.
After I stopped writing, I arrived at AA.
And before I even ordered anything, Wilson handed me a drink.
Maybe my friend had ordered it for me.
Maybe Wilson knew I was coming and made it straight away.
Honestly, I don’t know.
But I loved it.
I think one of the ways I feel cared for is when somebody remembers what I like without me having to ask.
Not because I expect people to read my mind.
It’s the fact that they noticed.
They remembered.
They thought of me before I had to say anything.
There is something about that which makes me feel incredibly appreciated.
Seen.
Maybe that sounds slightly demanding when I put it like that.
But I don’t think the thing itself has to be big.
It could literally just be a drink.
What matters is the feeling behind it:
I remembered you.
And maybe that explains part of the way I treat customers too.
I try to remember them.
What they drink.
What they like.
What they don’t like.
The little things.
Because if Wilson handing me a drink before I even asked could make me feel this good, then maybe remembering somebody else’s little preferences makes them feel the same way.
Maybe hospitality, at its best, is simply another way of saying:
I remembered you.
Then today actually began.
And I woke up to approximately seven thousand work messages.
James was asking when would be the best time to meet with the marketing team so we could go through guidelines for Lula’s social media.
He had also reviewed my staff-training slides.
Which means:
More reviewing.
More editing.
Great.
Then people started replying to the group chat about their availability for the rescheduled floor training, so I had to put all of that into my notes too.
What a beautiful morning.
Eventually, nobody needed anything from me.
So I opened Magic Chess.
Played one game.
Finished it.
Looked at my life.
And decided:
actually, I need to sleep again.
So I did.
Then I woke up because James called me.
Again.
This time he wanted me to pick something up from a printing shop.
At that point I gave up on pretending the day hadn’t started.
Fine.
I’m awake.
I watched an episode of The Cat and the Dragon, which is currently my favourite anime.
Had a shower.
Tried to calm myself down before another manager meeting.
Apparently today was just management from every direction.
Messages.
Reviews.
Scheduling.
Meetings.
Errands.
More meetings.
At some point I started thinking:
maybe this is what moving up actually looks like.
Not some dramatic promotion montage.
Just more people calling you because something needs doing.
After the manager meeting, I had to sit down for a while and reset.
Then go into the city.
Pick something up for James.
Go to Rosie’s.
Sit down with him again and go through the training slides.
One thing after another.
And weirdly, I don’t hate that.
It’s tiring.
But there is something satisfying about being trusted.
Maybe responsibility doesn’t always arrive with some big announcement.
Maybe sometimes it arrives as:
“Can you handle this?”
And then another thing.
And another.
Until one day you realise people have quietly started relying on you more than they used to.
Maybe that is what moving up looks like while it is actually happening.
Then later, the day softened.
Yesterday, I had made plans with Mariele and Dylan to come to Rosie’s Takapuna.
Lucas was working there.
Dylan already lives on the North Shore.
And I really wanted to try their Peach Bomb on tap.
So that was the plan.
And eventually, there I was.
Sitting at Rosie’s Takapuna.
Writing.
Drinking.
Existing.
And honestly, I love the energy there.
After spending the whole day being pulled around by work, it felt good to end up somewhere I had actually chosen to be.
Same company.
Same brand.
Completely different feeling.
Takapuna has this calmness to it that Viaduct doesn’t.
The space feels slower.
The beach is nearby.
Everything feels softer.
And I realised I could happily just sit there and write for ages.
Maybe it’s funny that after an entire day of management, meetings and Rosie’s-related errands, my idea of relaxing was apparently:
go to another Rosie’s.
But this didn’t feel like work.
I was there because I wanted to be.
And then there was Dylan.
I think I’ve started loving hanging out with him more.
After everything that happened, there is something about him that feels peaceful to me.
He just does his own thing.
He works.
He doesn’t seem overly concerned with what people say about him.
He doesn’t perform himself for anybody.
He is just Dylan.
And I respect that.
Maybe I’m imagining it, but he also seems a little more caring toward me lately.
Maybe he knows more about what I’ve been going through.
Maybe part of him feels responsible for some of it.
Maybe none of that is true.
I don’t know.
And I don’t want to write a story for him that he hasn’t told me himself.
That feels important after everything I’ve been learning lately.
I can notice something.
I can wonder about it.
But I don’t have to turn my interpretation into fact.
I just know that being around him feels good.
Simple.
Quiet.
Easy.
And maybe I just started loving him too.
Not in some dramatic way.
Not in a way that needs a label.
Just that quiet kind of love where someone slowly becomes important before you even realise it has happened.
Maybe love isn’t always this huge thing that announces itself.
Maybe sometimes it’s just:
I like having you around.
I feel peaceful when you’re here.
I care what happens to you.
I’m happy when you’re happy.
And then one day you realise those feelings have grown into something you don’t really have another word for.
The rest of the night ended at Dylan’s house.
And I think I want to leave it there.
Nothing I need to analyse.
Nothing I need to turn into a lesson.
Nothing I need to explain just because I’ve gotten used to explaining everything.
Maybe that is part of today’s Co–Star message too.
Believe that it is all possible.
Maybe possibility doesn’t always look like some huge new beginning.
Maybe sometimes it looks like responsibility slowly increasing.
A new venue trusting me with more.
A boss asking more from me because he knows I can handle it.
A project I thought was just helping with social media becoming something bigger.
Someone remembering my drink before I ask.
A friendship becoming more important.
A place becoming more familiar.
A version of myself becoming more capable.
Maybe I’m already doing things that would have felt impossible to me not that long ago.
And maybe the important part is noticing that.
I don’t know exactly where any of this is going.
With work.
With Lula’s.
With DJing.
With people.
With Dylan.
With myself.
But for once, I don’t think I need to know yet.
Maybe I don’t need the full plan.
Maybe I just need to leave enough room for things to become possible.
And tonight, I’m going to stop writing here.
I’m at Dylan’s.
I’m comfortable.
I’m happy to be here.
That can be enough.