There is no rewind button, and the only pause we should be pressing is when we need to reset our stance. With our chest full of air, shoulders back, and fists on hips… A motherf**king powerhouse.
“Right! This morning is going to go smoothly. No yelling. No fighting. Treasuring every moment. Be present… blah. Blah. blah.” Nek minute…
One day at a time. One anxious thought at a time…
My chest is tight. There are knots and fizzy bubbles in my heart.
NEW BLOG POST ||
Welcome to the shitshow….
Am I adulting right? Is there such a thing? How come this is so hard….
This is my accountability post. I’m going big. I’m doing this for me. What’s yours?
No, this isn’t a letter from your child-self. An apology. An acknowledgement of some past trauma or insecurity. No, this is not another of those letters. This is a letter from your future self…
You are the leading lady (or guy) in the story of YOU and the director, your God, the Universe, what-ever-you-believe-in is calling you up on stage! Fucking own that shit!
No good blog was ever written drunk… One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.