Explaining the Self-Explanatory

Well, hell. Sometimes it just gets down to that choice of getting up or lying in bed counting down the moments that you could have been sleeping… if only you could sleep. Good morning, world. Time to eat my English muffin and pretend to be awake. I’m not really sure what got me up this

Ballerina Feet

I wandered off on a tangent, yesterday.  Something about kids and baby ballet. A bumper sticker on a car–one of those Activity/Kid’s Name things–made me think of it. Now, let’s be honest. I live in a small town in the Midwest, where there are exactly zero dance studios that have the direct line to Julliard.

The Glories of Shitty Day Jobs

Today is the least popular day of the year, the day when the clocks get set forward an hour and we all lose an hour of sleep. Or, you know… in my case, an hour of early-morning writing time.  I’m most likely going to wake up at exactly the same time I always do, and

I’m So Healthy I Can Hardly Stand It

I am in the midst of a give-up soda and (some) other sugars and cling to a set schedule lifestyle shift for health. It’s actually working incredibly well for me. I feel great, I’m being productive. I’ve nearly reached the point that I’m saying “iced tea” when I order in restaurants, as opposed to “Coke”

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