I’m terrified of failure. Since I was a kid, I’ve always toed the line, often to my detriment. And while this quest for success has served me well in my professional life, it has also chipped away at my core ideas of self-worth and fulfillment.Continue reading“Fail.”
I often struggle between sharing too much and being fiercely private about my struggles. In a world already fraying at the edges, I hesitate to add my unique brand of grousing because what is one hard month in the grand scheme of things, right? Continue reading“Into each life some rain must fall.”
The pandemic continues, because why not? New mutations whoop with glee, rubbing their hands and waiting to be put into the game. We’re only a couple of Greek letters down; there’s plenty left to kill us all twice. 2021 continues, and the other day I prayed for a glitch in the matrix — something to shake us out of this endless landscape of fear and disease.
I was conversing with my mother-in-law in the kitchen last week as we washed the dishes. And to pass the time and tedium, I took it upon myself to educate her about random internet creeps.
Now, she is pretty worldly and, much like me, enjoys watching people make idiots of themselves. But her experience with perverts and weirdos was limited to 90s era sleazeballs and the odd guy airing his penis in a crowded subway train.Continue reading“Pillow talk.”
My nephew is a firecracker. And not the sedate, sizzling kind. No, he’s the kind who comes wrapped in a tight, trim package, sheathed in fancy plastic and promising simple, wholesome fun for the whole family. He soaks in all the energy around him and lights up like a firefly in the twilight. You think he’ll crackle merrily, maybe even go off with an adorable pop, so you step in close to watch the fun.Continue reading“Firecracker.”