9 a.m. Today is stacked with doctor appointments: oncology follow-ups and therapy and soooooo much anxiety. Late last year, I had endometrial cancer diagnosed, and even though I am technically in remission, I have a zillion appointments to stay on top of. It feels like a full-time job.

10 a.m. I head over to the psychiatrist to discuss my meds. I’ve dealt with depression/anxiety most of my adult life but medical menopause has made that a bit tougher to navigate. I used to be weirdly Christian Scientist about taking medicine — not even Advil for headaches — but now I have seen the light. Shout out to SSRIs and benzodiazepines. I know very few people who don’t struggle with mental health issues, so I am unapologetically open about my own. There is no shame. I’m a productive member of society with a couple of broken neurotransmitters. Not to be all Ina Garten about it, but if you can’t make your own neurotransmitters, store-bought are fine.

1 p.m. I do some work at a bar in SoHo and it takes my mind off cancer. I’m in conversation with Rebecca Traister at the New York Public Library tonight, and for the first time in a long time, I’m nervous about moderating an event. She’s a good friend but I’ve also been reading her for over a decade, and she’s shaped so much of my thinking about feminism, power and politics. It feels like an important moment to be discussing women’s anger and I feel some pressure to cover as much ground as possible.

5 p.m. I mosey on over to the library and Rebecca is fantastic, as is the response from the crowd.

10 p.m. I get home pretty late and take some CBD to sleep. I don’t know if it works, but the trazodone I also take definitely works.

7:30 a.m. First thing this morning is an interview for the podcast with Stacey Abrams, who is running for governor of Georgia. I do some prep but it feels like cheating, because I interviewed her live recently at the Wing.

9 a.m. The rest of the morning I spend in my inbox until my computer dies. That’s my method usually: Plug in at night, work until it dies, take a break while it recharges and then get back to work. Same thing with the phone. I don’t care if it’s good for the battery, it’s great for my brain.

3:30 p.m. Rest of the day is spent slaying the inbox.

7 a.m. I’m writing a memoir with Ann. We usually write together in the same room, side by side, but lately we’ve been experimenting with writing separately at our own pace. We give each other the same writing assignment and come back to edit it into a coherent, melded passage. Writing is hard, but the accountability of knowing someone else is doing the exact same thing as you at the exact same time 100 percent works.



By RYAN BRADLEY

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