i designed a calendar in 2020 that never got printed. a year later, i updated the file and tried again. remembering my initial failure, i started doubting the direction i was flying. you see failure is not something i handle well. in fact, failure was not something i’ve needed to “handle” at all. i didn’t
[BIRD NOTE: i started writing this in january but never posted it … because… duh … i was afraid. every time i start to see daylight the darkness creeps in so below is my attempt to fly into the eye of the storm. my fears.] i woke up to a puking dog this morning. upon
it’s earth day. one of my most favorite days of the year [!] … for one single day … i can walk around picking up trash and no one will judge me. i’m over here “decluttering” why i give a damn what others think — in all scenarios but especially this one. no one wants
the universe is a wonderfully, tricky b*tch sometimes and she [yes, she] has smacked me between the eyes once again. as explained in a previous post, every so often [a.k.a. all the time] when i am about to “take flight,” i fall down a bird hole. it happened, again.
i have worked nearly every day since i was 15. work has come to define who i am. it is not ALL that i am. i’m finally ready to fly in a new direction…
i love spinning metaphors into stories. puns and innuendos come pouring out of me, and sports themes tend to be top of mind. life is just one big game, isn’t it? the past few months have proven that time and again. here’s my story of being laid off from a 125-year-old company who enticed me
second on my list of things that matter is success at work. what i consider “work” isn’t always a job that provided a w-2.