I know I’m not alone in feeling like Life is heavy these days.
I keep trying to find positives, to talk myself up into a good mood- then I feel regretful, as though by marvelling at the deliciousness of french toast or singing to a good song on the radio, I’m not showing enough reverence and respect to how the world currently stands.
To what has happened.
Which then makes me feel guiltier than before.
It’s a vicious cycle of feeling low, then building up to a good mood then feeling guilty about the good mood. Eventually I crawl into …READ MORE
I’m fairly certain someone (me) once said “When life gives you WTF moments, figure out how to turn them into FTW celebrations.” Which is only mildly less annoying than the phrase involving lemons and lemonade. Or the one your aunt always repeats involving lemons and tequila which she repeats so often you’d think she thought of it rather than reading it on a forward that she’s sent you roughly 34,595 times.
But phrases like that are around for reason (and not just to be complied into lists that your relatives forward you from now until eternity), they make sense. And when I …READ MORE
Recently, I won life coaching sessions from Molly. Which (for me), seems as essential as daily viewing of sea otters on youtube before going to work (aka: ESSENTIAL LIKE OXYGEN).
One of the assignments I have this week has been to write a love letter to myself. So naturally, I decided to pull a Hermoine Granger and share this. Because sometimes I like to paint myself with the ‘overachiever’ brush. It makes me feel sophisticated and grand- like Gwyneth Paltrow minus Goop (and a body that should go to prison because it’s KILLER). But mostly I wanted to share this so people …READ MORE
I’m not sure how it happened.
I could blame “Eat, Pray, Love”. The idea that, when faced with a devastating loss or unyielding heartache of epic proportions, the most courageous thing you can do is to leave. To run. To flee. To explore new lands and discover new people. That anything less than a dramatic exit will not suffice, will not illustrate to those around you just how absolutely crushed you are. That unless I smash plates, book trips to exotic lands, get ill-placed tattoos, take up chain smoking and jeggings- that my sadness does not have a home, isn’t …READ MORE
He meant “dishwasher”. We clarified when he brought it up to my desk for me to check.
See, the thing is, teaching 3 grade is the best. The kids are independent, they get your jokes (well most of them unless you try to tell something that doesn’t involve the words “knock knock”), yet they still want hugs and draw you pictures of flowers and a sun wearing sunglasses and tell you that you are the prettiest person in the world. (It would be wrong to argue with them).
So every so often we skip learning cursive (because daily cursive practice …READ MORE
I am aware that there’s a little something called “Post Secret” and it’s amazing. I am still wading through my inbox (and why yes, I am aware that one of the most interesting things to read is someone writing about how full their inbox is), and I found this ditty that had got placed in my spam folder.
So here is todays The Secret Project submission. By someone “too lazy” to mail it to Post Secret. (Their words not mine!). I thought it was beautifully said and of course, had to share it. Not only …READ MORE
It’s Tuesday right now.
Of course, you are reading this on a Wednesday. Or, if you are like me (and hate google reader), you are reading this 2 months from now on a lovely March day while preparing your liver for St. Patricks Day and stomach assaulting *Irish carbombs.
Either way. I’m writing this yesterday. (That sentence makes little sense but also blew my mind.)
So, the reason why I’m writing this a day before and using the romantic ability to plan a later publish date is on the day you read this I’m going to be in the hospital. …READ MORE