HeyJaredHomebody Stories
Slow thoughts on finding meaning from one homebody to another.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Sep 25, 2026
- Audience
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 7, 2026
Latest issues
#41: All of Us Don't Have the Same 24 Hrs (opens the original)
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My cook is awake before the city is. By 5:30 am, she’s already lit her own stove and made breakfast for her children before they leave for school. She’s a single mother raising two kids. She gets them dressed, packs their bags, feeds them, and is out the door while the sky is still the colour of ash. Her route is a roughly 15-minute walk from her colony to the gated society where she works. By the time she reaches her first house (mine), it’s barely 7 am. She cooks for the second time, lunch pre
#40: Who Is an Anti-National? (opens the original)
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It was the morning of July 20th. Every road to Jantar Mantar had been barricaded, as if the city itself were holding its breath. It took Hansal and me nearly two hours to reach the protest site.And there they were.As far as my eyes could travel, the streets had disappeared beneath a sea of people. Thousands of them. The cockroaches had come: by auto, by bus, by train, by air, crawling out from every corner of the country into the capital. Some had travelled through the night. Some had left befor
#39: Shall We Go for a Swim? (opens the original)
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I get into the swimming pool.Minute one, a kid maybe 11 years old, with a huge grin plastered on his face, runs and launches himself into the pool, less than ten inches from my face. I don’t just get splashed. Water goes up my nose, into my right ear, and I’m already pissed. I take deep breaths. In through the nose, except I can’t. I switch to mouth-breathing. I think about my happy place. My happy place, it turns out, is a pool with no children in it. Okay, not exactly no children. Just not the
#38: Luteal Thinking (opens the original)
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“I hate everything about myself during this time. Literally every damn thing.”In a conversation with my closest friend recently, this is what I told her. This is the bitter truth I return to every single month. It’s the moment my body begins shedding the lining of my uterus. Almost as if sadness and self-loathing are just another part of the menstrual cycle. Not always on schedule though.<a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!nysf!,f_auto,q_aut
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