Now that I’m finally settled into my SAHM/WAHM role, I sometimes find myself longing for the workplace, but not for the reasons you might expect. Sure, my (adorable, precious) children drive me bonkers sometimes, and a little more (or a lot more) dough would be nice in our bank account, but these aren’t the things I long for the most. So what could possibly have me longing for the 8-5 more than sanity and a paycheck?
1. Work friends. I’m blessed to enjoy some incredible friendships outside of the workplace. But there’s just something different, something special, about work friends. You share so many inside jokes, that with just a look, you can send each other into hysterics. You share the same goals, projects and often the same aggravations. You have lunch, coffee …
Yep. That’s me. Except my hair is a little longer and I’m female. (image from kivafellows.wordpress.com)
I have something to tell you. Something I’ve been too ashamed to reveal. Something only my closest friends and family members know about me. Something I keep tucked away in my purse, and cringe at every time I have to pull it out. I…have…a feature phone. An old feature phone. A Zack Morris brick phone, as one friend affectionately calls it. So now you know. Are you shocked? Surprised that I, a heavy user of social media, a lover of all things technology related, don’t have a smart phone?
While attending an American Marketing Association luncheon lately, guest speaker Simon Salt of Incslingers asked the …
So long plastic prisons. We are never, ever, ever getting back together. Like ever. (image from socialmoms.com)
Dear Credit Card Companies,
When we broke up four years ago, I knew it wouldn’t be easy. We’d been together for five years, and had made a lot of memories. I get that. But can’t you just get over it? It’s like you’re in denial, certain that one day, we’ll get back together. Well, let me assure you, that won’t happen. And just in case you don’t remember why, here’s a refresher.
I was a different person when I met you. I was 18, young and naive. You promised me big adventures, extravagant shopping trips and most of all, happiness. And security. And a sense of maturity. And for awhile, I believed you. You courted me. You wooed me. You gave me …
I unplugged, and plugged in to what matters most. (image from nourish.lifecoaching.com)
Perhaps the headline is a bit dramatic, but it would make a great TV drama, don’t you think? We’re so connected to our online networks (and I think that’s a good thing), that we often can’t imagine what we would do if we couldn’t log in. No Facebook notifications, no Twitter mentions, no Google Plus…whatever. I’m just not that into Google Plus. Yesterday, I chose to log out of all social networks, and I actually didn’t venture online at all. At 10ish Saturday night, I logged out, and didn’t log in until just a few minutes ago (8 a.m. Central on Monday morning). I had 10 Facebook notifications, 2 inbox messages, and 4 Twitter mentions. And my blog traffic? Ha! The lowest it’s ever …
Everyone has their thing they get all “pitchforks” about. And by pitchforks, I mean that thing they believe so strongly in, that they’re quick to pick up their pitchforks and chase down whatever threatens their “thing.” Mine is healthy media for kids. And while watching the presidential debate the other night, I have admit my fingers were itching to pick up my pitchfork and fly into action. When Mitt Romney said, “I’m going to stop the subsidy to PBS,” I was a little worried. Do I want that to happen? Absolutely not. But do I think PBS would go away if it did? No, after doing some research, I don’t. It would suffer, but it probably wouldn’t disappear entirely.
But the question that some are asking, and it’s an important one, is this: why do we …
“It’s cancer.”
Although I’d braced myself for this diagnosis from the vet, I was still completely shocked. I forced down the lump in my throat, and started asking questions. “When can we remove it? What treatments are available? Is this common? Do dogs survive this?” I looked down at our happy black lab, and my mind was flooded with memories of bringing her home on that cold February night, as a surprise Valentine’s gift for my husband. A snuggly ball of black fur, she blended in with my dark wool coat, and greeted me with a casual “hello” before noticing what I had in my arms. He was ecstatic. And she has been our “baby” ever since. She even had her own blog. That was nearly five years ago.
She’s always had what I thought …