I seriously can’t stop laughing. Which proves how easily I am humored, right?
November 2011 has been huge.
30 Nov posted by
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HUGE.
I committed to writing every day & batted at a 93.3% average.
I said goodbye to my job of six years & started on a completely new career path, in a completely new industry.
We put our house on the market.
I mastered the sock bun, read books that spill poetry onto pages, & only drove through Bojangles once.
I gave away an Oreck vacuum & a Kitchen Folio from momAgenda.
I mourned the loss of my first baby.
We celebrated Thanksgiving with family & friends.
I took another new job as a writer for Babble. (more on that tomorrow!)
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I have found myself stressing about money & work/life balance, but everything seems to fall into place the moment I think my anxiety cannot take one more moment. & then I curl up in bed to escape with a book or One Tree Hill on Netflix.
Here’s looking forward to a bright & merry holiday season. Cheers, my friends.
We? Are about to be tickled to death by a two-year-old. photo by Mandy Powers.
Why you should never take me too seriously, no matter what I write.
29 Nov posted by
This morning, I rushed through the slogging cold rain into our building, paying no mind to my wet heels or the marble floor, clicking towards the elevators & hoping the traffic didn’t keep me from beating my boss into the office.
I’m still in that weird “please like me!” stage where I hope to beat him in every day.
I rounded the corner, dodged a column, & WHAM! faceplanted. I’m still shocked that I did not
a) break my ankle
b) blow out my knee
c) break my wrist
d) all of the above.
But the first thought through my mind was, “HOLY SHIT, I just ate marble in front of at least ten of my new colleagues.” & I was thrown back thirteen years when I fell UP the steps of the high school building in front of the popular seniors. So I did what any normal sane drama queen would do. I moaned & rolled onto my back, clutching my ankle. One lady offered her concern, but I sheepishly got up & limped to the elevator, where everyone avoided eye contact for the next four stories.
This is where I should wax poetic about how my pride is bruised but honestly? My ankle hurts worse.
words to live by.
17 Nov posted by
“I wouldn’t dream of working on something that didn’t make my gut rumble and my heart want to explode. “~ Kate Winslet
Either way, it hatched & has feathers.
5 Nov posted by
Working with the senior community does have it’s perks.
Like at Christmas, when a funeral home sent our marketing team a basket of treats with a bottle of wine & a note that scrawled “Thanks for all you do!”
Four years later, we still haven’t stopped wondering whether people run funeral homes because they’re socially awkward or if they’re socially awkward because they run a funeral home.
It’s all very chicken & egg, you see.
