06/02/2026
Just another day at Shapiro’s ♥️
Today started with a traditional routine of bookwork at Shapiro’s.
Spreadsheets open. Coffee cooling.
And if you know me, that somehow means I end up questioning the meaning of existence before lunch.
“What if we’re all just trying to be understood?”
“What if my life’s purpose is to build bridges of comprehension so that the deepest parts of me may be witnessed?”
Yes.
This is literally what I think about.
I wipe away a philosophical tear and head to acupuncture.
Wonderful session. Love Dr. Sang.
Calm music. Incense. Inner peace. Needles. The whole nine yards.
I get to the car and notice a large bump on my left temple.
“Oh my God.”
Tilt head.
Stare again.
Analyze the bump.
Photograph the bump.
“Of course.”
After spending six hours contemplating blocked energy, thought patterns, enlightenment, flow states, and bridges of comprehension…
my temple starts swelling.
At this point, I was convinced one of three things was happening:
The universe was trolling me.
I had received New Age electroshock therapy.
Something was trying to release through my temple.
Naturally, I marched back inside expecting a profound spiritual yin-yang-chi explanation.
Dr. Sang looked at it and said:
“It’s a hematoma.”
“Just a little blood under the skin.”
Well.
That’s significantly less mystical.
After school, Jakob and I headed to Hannaford for a dinner shop.
Jakob, pushing the cart through the aisles, says:
“We should do caramelized onion pasta and steaks.”
“Sounds like an excellent choice.”
A few minutes later, I’m standing in the produce aisle absentmindedly touching my hematoma.
Jakob looks at me.
I look at him.
And immediately blurt out in my best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice from Kindergarten Cop:
“IT’S NOT A TUMOR!”
We both start laughing.
Now we’re sitting down to dinner, and I can’t help but think:
Turns out it wasn’t enlightenment.
Turns out it wasn’t a cosmic download.
Turns out it wasn’t a sign from the universe.
It was just a hematoma.
But the conversations were real.
The laughter was real.
The dinner was real.
And that’s more than enough.
~Angela Shapiro
