screw the five stages of grief + a different due diligence

of course our traditional forms of self care don’t suffice. we aren’t in traditional times.

YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD NAPOLITAN PIZZERIA —

depending on where you walk these days, you may think that the world has either moved to a stage of acceptance or pranced to a stage of denial. based on where you make a left, the pandemic’s worst days are either past us or upon us.

the other day, i entered the grocery store and did a happy dance. everything was finally in stock, the lines weren’t winding into the parking lot, and in the corner, there was a roll of paper towels waiting to be snatched up. it only took a few minutes for me to snap into reality when i saw a fight break out because someone brought 20 items to the 15 items-or-less aisle.

i’m starting to realize that each day shows up with its own sort of unexpected baggage. if we’re supposed to be as present as ever, a rollercoaster is a daunting as hell reality to live in.

more later, including what high school psychology lesson has proven to be absolute BS, but first my words + reads:

my words: as lockdowns extend to prevent the spread of the coronavirus, investors and startups are searching for new ways to connect with each other. a number of investors have already cut fully remote checks, saying it impacts everything from the due diligence process, to appetite, to who gets to access capital in the first place.

etc: the first 30 days of pandemic stress are past us, so it means we’re going to see a maturation of some of the “remote scramble” settle into daily routines. this piece documents the beginning stages of a zoom-friendly investing scene.

learning lesson: the investors are all getting at the same point here: investing during a pandemic is a lot more nuanced than jumping on a zoom call and putting on a witty background. and while firms might indeed be open for business, it is most certainly not business as usual.

unorganized tab time:

a wild story about doordash and pizza

a nice account to follow on instagram

i talked about never have i ever for a podcast

step aside, sourdough starter

anyways,

i’ve recently realized that the five stages of grief underestimates our world today.

the five stages of grief, for those who don’t know, is the idea that grief is processed in waves: first denial, then anger, then bargaining, depression, and finally — acceptance.

for some reason, i was taught to think these stages can take their time and that time itself is the bandaid that heals all wounds. but that advice doesn’t hold up in a pandemic. i mean really, how do you even begin to process sadness when you can’t go to a coffee shop and stare longingly out of a window?

in reality, i’m convinced that denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance can all be felt in one fell swoop. in one day. in one hour. in one singular sweet n’ low moment.

so what do we do with that information? with realizing that life is more complicated than comprehensible these days? and that ‘stages’ is an oversimplification of our process?

i don’t exactly know. yet somehow that exact confusion is comforting.

it is relieving to know that there is no way for me to manage every single hurdle as it bubbles up these days. and it makes me feel less crazy for having an on-paper perfect self care sunday — hell i even made granola from scratch — and still letting it end with an anxiety-inducing episode of the scaries. of course our traditional forms of self care don’t suffice, we aren’t in traditional times.

so that’s what i have for you this week: stop trying to oversimplify in a time of chaos. it’s a disservice to yourself. keep hunting to find comfort in anything you can, whether that is homemade granola, eavesdropping at the grocery store, dry active yeast, or just some good ol’ sobs. and don’t be hard on yourself if it doesn’t work.

to finding solace where we can these days,

n