About Jackie Lea Sommers

Minneapolis YA author who rather enjoys Jesus, stories, cute nerds, and cranky teenagers. Jackie blogs about OCD, faith, and creativity at www.jackieleasommers.com.

15 Things Making Me Happy Right Now

  1. Kitten videos on Instagram. Always.
  2. Lip liner.
  3. Kiddos.
  4. Young people who are passionate about writing.
  5. Last Week Tonight with John Oliver.
  6. Rewatching SVU with my roommate.
  7. 4096.
  8. The Chronicles of Narnia. Over and over and over again.
  9. Poshmark.
  10. The rainstorms earlier this week.
  11. Banana-Nutella smoothies.
  12. Ativan.
  13. Scripture.
  14. CPAP.
  15. Possibility.

Prufrock’s Spoons

Prufrock’s Spoons
by Jackie Lea Sommers & T.S. Eliot

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

And so have I.
Not enough spoons for a week like this one.
Not enough for this month, this year.
This is our unit of measurement,
J. Alfred,
or maybe Eliot himself,
the tired ones everywhere
who use the word chronic to describe
something unseen.

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
See the muscles spasm
along both sides of the spine.
Feel the sweat drip
down the neck of a body that can’t cool.
The girl in the bed
can’t move
or think.
She is like the night.
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table
Yes. Like that.
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
And throbbing with pain
like a subwoofer
underneath the pale, freckled skin.
Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
Those were days of endless spoons.
I could throw them from me like candy in a parade.
I was younger and in love with
Now I watch
for any glint of metal,
any strobe of silver,
for my collection of spoons,
the currency of this girl
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.



I want to be honest on my blog, but I feel like this year has been so difficult that I sound negative, and I want this to be a place of hope.

To be clear, I DO have hope. Lots of it.

But there’s also been a lot of darkness this year.

Today is a day when I’d love to write a post called “Raw.”

Instead I’m writing one called “Balance.”

Any ideas?mauricio-santanna-679405-unsplash.jpg

Steep weep? Reap deep sleep. Keep beep-beep.

It is crazy what a night of great sleep can do.

Today I am motivated, refreshed, full of ideas.

Thank you, Ashley, who volunteered to rescue me; my parents, who planned to drive an hour just to help me clean; all my dear friends who remind me of my accomplishments when I feel like a failure; medication, for abating my inflammation; and my CPAP, for letting me get 8 solid hours of good sleep.

Today I am cleaning, planning my workshop, and creating a customized planner … wanna see?

(I’ll probably show you regardless ha!)

Tell me something good, friends.

The Fall of (This) Woman

This is just a gripe session, so read at your own discretion.

I feel crummy, and I know it’s because I’ve eaten too much sugar this week, and yet I still want to, oh, say, eat Nutella with a shovel. Instead I will eat a salad.

I went to my university’s library to pick up the books I’d reserved to prepare for the workshop I’m teaching (IN A WEEK … procrastination is not your friend, peeps), and the library closes early in the summer, so I missed it by SIX MINUTES. I feel stupid.

I stayed up late watching SNL videos on YouTube. Another slick move, especially knowing how important my sleep is when I feel this way.

My room is a disaster zone, and I keep thinking of how the Queer Eye guys say that sometimes our space is representative of the chaos going on inside us. Hear, hear.

It’s hot.

Remember the guy “Ben” who ghosted me last summer? And then again in January? All of you said NO NO NO, NO MORE CHANCES, but we’ve been talking a ton and last week he said he wanted to get together this week. It didn’t happen. Of course. I should have known, but I’m sometimes too hopeful for my own good.

Too hopeful? Too self-sabotaging.

Okay, enough complaining. I’m going to go make a life plan.

Wish I looked this good while annoyed

3 Thoughts on Freedom

Happy Independence Day!

First, I am always, always so grateful for the exposure therapy that let me experience my first taste of freedom back in 2008. Here’s to 10 years of being master of OCD and not mastered by it.

Secondly, I will say, though, that I am scared for America. We have a rough history of colonization, slavery, and abuse, but I do believe that many here understand that diversity and freedom make our nation something beautiful. My prayer is that we will never concede to the horrendous forces that try to destroy diversity or freedom.

Thirdly, baby, you’re a firework.