Often, when I want something the first thing I do is tell myself why I can’t have it. I’m not sure if it’s a personality trait or because I’m a woman. But, my first thoughts are always negative. I shoot down my own ideas and dreams before they have a chance to become something.
I know part of it comes from fear. Fear of success, fear of failure, fear of someone saying no and me looking like an idiot.
If it is something I can do completely on my own, I can work through those negative thoughts more quickly. But when it takes assistance from someone else, the fear jumps in. I start to question if I really want to do or have that thing if it requires asking for help. That snarky inner voice says, “Why would they want to help you?”
Luckily for me, I’m a talker. I like to talk things over with my friends before I make the decision. Even though I really just want them to tell me that I’m right and give me an excuse not to do it. At least, that’s the way I used to be.
Then I heard about an event in my town. Rick Riordan, the author of the Lightning Thief series is coming to the local middle school to give a reading and presentation. I worked with a group of kids last year to write him fan letters and they were overjoyed to hear he was coming. But, they and their families couldn’t afford the tickets. So, I thought, why not ask for a discount?
It seemed simple. The worst that could happen was they’d say no. And it wasn’t really for me, so I shouldn’t be scared to ask.
But when I tried to walk out the door at work and go to the bookstore, I froze. Could I really walk up to a stranger and ask them to do me a favor? Even if it was for the children? I couldn’t think of what to say and I put it off on three different occasions.
Finally, one of my friends told me to quit talking about it and just go do it. No excuses, no steps to get ready. Just go ask. That’s all you can do.
So I walked into the bookstore and that’s just what I did. And you know what? They said yes. Then they said that they would love to do anything to help the kids get to the talk. They gave me the tickets at cost and said, “If there’s anything else we can do to help, let us know.”
My worries seemed so silly. All I had to do was ask. My friend was right.
Nobody laughed in my face. No one thought I was stupid or ridiculous to even ask. They wanted to help. It reminded me that people are basically good and will prove it if we give them the chance. But if we talk ourselves out of even asking, we won’t be able to see it.
I took this new-found courage and applied it in other, smaller areas of my life. That mascara that I didn’t know was waterproof when I bought it? That’s right, I took it back. They gave me the stuff I wanted in return, no hassle and no questions asked.
Maybe that biblical saying is true: Ask and you shall receive.
Sure, sometimes the answer will be No. But there are also times it will be Yes.
And we’ll never know until we ask.
Do you have a hard time asking for help? Is talking to strangers hard for you? Or are you one of those people who can talk to anyone?
There is a lot of pressure on us to be in a romantic relationship, or find one if we are single. Some of it is self-inflicted, but it also comes from everything we see and hear. Movies, TV, books, even the news. Everywhere we turn we are told that we shouldn’t be alone. That we need a relationship in order to be whole. A complete life includes a man.
Sure, most of us want to be in a relationship if it is the right one. We want the partner-in-crime who makes us laugh, takes out the garbage, and likes to cuddle. But sometimes this pressure makes us feel guilty if we hold out for the kind of guy we really want.
A guy doesn’t have to hit us, or cheat on us, or treat us badly for us to break up with him. It is really ok if he just isn’t the one for us. So then why is it so hard for us to do?
I spent too long in a relationship with a guy who didn’t get me. He was smart, funny, educated, and even nice. But when I told him that I wanted him to really see me, he thought I was crazy. “I see you, you’re standing in front of me!” was what he said. He just didn’t get what I meant.
That meant he wasn’t the one for me.
But when I told some friends that I was ending it, I got a lot of flack. He hadn’t done anything wrong, so why should I break up with him?
I have a friend who went through a similar thing recently. She felt so bad about breaking up with a guy who clearly wasn’t for her. No, he wasn’t a bad guy and he didn’t hit her. But he didn’t understand her and couldn’t appreciate who she really is.
Yes, that is enough to break-up over.
When I looked at my friend’s relationship I could see it so clearly. We deserve so much more than a guy who doesn’t hit us or call us names.
We deserve to be with a guy who sees us for who we really are and loves us for it. I remember my former boss used to always tell me: “It doesn’t matter what he looks like or what his job is, what matters is that he adores you.” At the time, I thought she was crazy. But now I see that she was right.
Someone has to really know you. Really, truly, completely, in order to adore you.
And that is exactly what we deserve.
It is perfectly ok for me to break-up with a guy who doesn’t get me. I want to be gotten.
Yes, in the meantime there will be some single days and tough “It just doesn’t work for me” conversations. But, it will be worth it in the end. To know that we didn’t settle for a guy who was there, but we waited for the guy who was right for us.
A guy doesn’t have to be a jerk to be wrong for you. And it’s ok to tell him. Really, we’re doing him a favor because there is someone out there who he is right for. The sooner we let him go, the sooner he can find her. And the sooner we can find our guy.
We deserve so much more than ok. But we have to believe it first. And we have to be strong enough to not settle for less.
Repeat after me: “This just isn’t working for me.”
Don’t you feel better already?
Have you ever felt guilty about breaking up with someone? Do you feel the pressure to be coupled up?
Do you ever have those moments where you feel like Everybody is against you? You make a big decision and Everybody tells you how it’s a bad idea and you shouldn’t do it. Or you cut your hair and Everybody says, “Oh, you got a haircut.” We all know that is code for “It looks like crap.”
I worry about Everybody way too much. If I say this or do that what is Everybody going to think?
When I made the decision to move to Miami, I didn’t want to tell anyone. I knew that most people would think I was crazy and, frankly, I didn’t want to hear it. And knowing that some people might not like it made it jump into the big category of Everybody.
Thankfully one of my friends stopped and asked me who Everybody is, specifically. She went through my family. They aren’t Everybody. They support my decisions, no matter what they are, because they love me. Five names crossed off the Everybody list.
Then she went through my close friends. Nope. They weren’t Everybody. Most of them actually thought moving was a great idea. And when I thought about it some more, I remembered all the times they have been supportive of me.
When we got down to it, there was one person who didn’t support me and usually made comments that poked at my doubts. But she wasn’t a friend or family member, or even someone I cared about. She was an acquaintance at work who I don’t have much in common with. In fact, when my friend kept digging, we realized that I don’t actually like or respect this woman. Our goals and values are not in line with each other and the way she treats some people makes my stomach churn, literally.
I can look beyond what she says and see that she really doesn’t like herself. It makes me sad. But, it doesn’t change the fact that she is mean. She says things on purpose to make other people upset. So why would I listen to her?
It was amazing to see that Everybody is just one person. One person I don’t even like. One person whose opinion doesn’t mean anything to me. The truth is, Everybody is a bitch.
Now, when I make a decision and start to worry about how Everybody is going to react, I stop. I go through the list of people in my life and ask if they support me. I keep going until I get down to the one, sometimes two, people who will have something bad to say. And every time, they are someone I don’t care about. So why should I care what they think?
The people who know us and love us support us. Everybody doesn’t matter.
She is a bitch, anyway.
How do you let go of worrying about what Everybody thinks? Do you have an Everybody in your life?
The other night I went out to Karaoke with some friends. We were excited, so we went early and got a table close to the stage. I have been doing a lot of work on myself lately, and I felt like I was taking my new, confident self out. I was ready to get up there and sing badly, because it is fun.
We ordered drinks and watched the other tables fill up. People weren’t dressed like they were out for a good time. One woman even came in her housecoat. I figured it was going to be a casual crowd. That would be good for my Karaoke debut.
Then the lights dimmed and the DJ came up to the stage. He sang a song I’ve never heard of, but of course he was good. Otherwise they wouldn’t have given him the job. While he was doing his solo the shiny silver ball on the ceiling started turning and colored strobe lights flashed onto him.
It was a party atmosphere.
One of my friends wanted to sing right away, so she put in for a song by herself. I figured that she sang about as good as I do and she was just ready to have fun. We all worried a little when she chose a Shakira song. That woman can do things with her voice that I don’t even understand.
I underestimated my friend.
She got up there and sang! She even did that wobbly voice thing that Shakira is famous for. People in the bar clapped along during the song and cheered afterwards. I was amazed. I had no idea my friend could sing like that.
That is when the fear started to set in. People going up on stage could sing. Really sing. For me, Karaoke had always been about drunk fun. I took it as seriously as singing in the shower. The thing is, I’m not actually good at singing. Sometimes I jokingly use it as a punishment with children. Do what I say or I’m going to sing you a song. It always works.
As the night progressed I had a few cocktails and got in the mood to sing, even badly. Three of us went up together to sing “Like a virgin” because no one takes Madonna seriously.
With the bright lights in my face and the words flashing by on the computer screen, I was terrified. Faces in the audience stared up at me like, “What is she doing?” I could tell they wanted me to shut up and sit down. They were not having fun.
Which meant I had trouble having fun. If I turned away from the audience and focused on my friends and the song, it was a blast. When the song was over and we went to sit down I started wondering, when did Karaoke become so serious?
I felt a pressure to be good and talented in order to get up on stage. I wanted to tell the people at the other tables that I have other talents, singing just isn’t one of them. Does that mean that I shouldn’t get up and have fun?
Then it dawned on me that I was the one putting pressure on myself. We do it all the time. Maybe it’s because we’re women. I’m not sure. But we seem to think that we have to be perfect at everything we do. If I can’t do it well, then I shouldn’t do it at all.
But there is no such thing as perfect.
And no one can be good at everything.
Sure, there were plenty of people there that night who could sing well. But they might not be able to change a diaper with one hand, tell a funny story off the top of their heads, or write a book. We all have things we’re good at and things we’re not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do the things that we aren’t good at and just have fun.
I may not be a good singer. But I know how to have fun.
So when the DJ called our names again, I got up there with my friends and sang “Faith”. I stopped worrying about the people out at the tables and thought about how much fun I was having. I danced and sang and didn’t think about how close the microphone was to my mouth. It was even ok if they heard my voice. And, really, that’s the way George Michael would have wanted it.
Sometimes we need to let go of the pressure to be perfect and just have a good time.
We can’t be good at everything.
Do you feel pressure to do everything well? Are you willing to try things you aren’t good at?
I read a couple of Ingrid Schaffenburg’s post about letting go and it got me to thinking. There are plenty of things in life that I have been able to let go of. People, jobs, and things. And I am really not one to hold a grudge. But there is something that I just can’t let go of.
Yes, I’m talking to you, Marc Anthony!
Seven or eight years ago when I lived in Ecuador I went to a lot of concerts. I guess I really do like live music when it’s not so expensive. Quito is a pretty modern city and attracts plenty of big name artists. Ecuador may be considered a third world country, but Quito is definitely a First World city.
I am not super into salsa. I do like to dance to it, but I hadn’t really pictured sitting and listening to an entire concert. But, I had some friends visiting and they love salsa. Especially Marc Anthony. So we bought some tickets and got excited for the show.
Then a couple of days before the concert we heard on the radio that Marc Anthony had cancelled the concert. He didn’t give an explanation or a lame excuse like laryngitis. He just cancelled.
My friends and I went down to the box office to refund our tickets. We waited in line with hundreds of other people. After what seemed like hours, we heard from the people in the front of the lines: No refunds.
The venue said they weren’t the ones who actually sold the tickets, so they didn’t have any money to return. They closed the windows and told everyone to go home.
Well, it was Ecuador and people were angry. So, we started a little protest march. We chanted and demanded our money back. We even shut down the traffic on one of the major streets in the city for a couple of hours. We didn’t get our money back, but at least we didn’t walk away and take it silently.
It might seem crazy to protest over concert tickets. I mean, is twenty dollars enough to get upset over? In a country where the average monthly wage is around $300, one concert ticket is a lot. And most of the people there hadn’t bought the cheap tickets like me. So they were out something like half of their month’s pay.
That was how much they wanted to see Marc Anthony.
Eventually word came out from the Marc Anthony camp that the problem had been with the company that planned the show. Marc claimed no responsibility.
But I’m not willing to let him off the hook. It was his name on the tickets. It was him that people had paid to see. It was ultimately his responsibility to make things right.
And with the money he probably got in his divorce from J. Lo, he could definitely afford it. Unlike all the people who bought tickets to his concert because they thought seeing him would be worth the sacrifice.
Yes, I know I should let go of this grudge I have against Marc Anthony. It would be the right thing to do and all that. But I don’t care. I don’t want to let go. It’s not like I’m filled with hate and plotting my revenge against the man. Really, J.Lo already got him back for us.
But if I ever run into him some day, I’m definitely going to tell him what I think about it.
I’m just not ready to let go. And I’m ok with that.
Marc Anthony owes me twenty bucks. And an apology.
Do you hold on to grudges or let things go? If you have any silly grudges you’re holding onto, I’d love to hear about them. It’d make me feel more normal.
Goals are important. They help us move forward and know what we are working toward. Having goals keeps us on track and motivated.
For me, fall seems like the start of something new. So that is when I sit down and write out my goals for the year. Of course I end up going back and refining and editing them throughout the year. And sometimes I add new goals and change others completely.
But I realized that I have been missing a big step along the way.
I never stop to celebrate.
I keep making goals and keep working toward them. And when I meet a goal, I make a new one that takes me further down the path. Sure, every once and a while I’ll look back and see how far I’ve come. But then I turn back around keep moving forward.
I don’t stop to pat myself on the back or even say “Good Job, Emma.” And I definitely don’t take a day off.
In fact, I never really thought about it until the other day when I was talking with a friend. In the two weeks since we’d talked she had done some amazing things. It was like she had started a whole new career in those two weeks, and it was beginning very successfully.
But she hadn’t seen it. She felt like she was always working, but never getting anything done. It wasn’t until I made a big deal of it that she could see it was a big deal, too. In that moment I realized how important it is to celebrate every step along the way. Every success is important no matter how small.
So, why can we see it in other people and not in ourselves?
I don’t know the answers. And the truth is, I don’t really care why. I just want to work on recognizing my accomplishments and stopping to celebrate them.
Maybe I’ll start with writing a list of everything I’ve accomplished in the past year, month, and week. Or maybe I’ll pull out my old journals and read over the past goals that I’ve already met. And I’m definitely going to start keeping track of all those little scraps of paper where I write down all the little things I want to do.
So I can celebrate each and every one of them.
We don’t have to throw a party every time we cross something off our to-do list. A little acknowledgement can go a long way. But we really do need to stop ignoring our efforts and only focusing on the end goal.
It is too easy to look all the way ahead to where I want to be five years from now and realize that I’m not there yet. But if I stop and look back to how far I’ve come already, I really would want to throw myself a party.
So that’s what I’m going to do.
It’s party time!
Are you always focused on the goals ahead? How do you celebrate the small steps along the way?
I have been struggling with a love/hate relationship with exercise for a while now. Probably, since I started taking my writing seriously. It seems I only have room in my life for one major obsession. When I found writing, my love of exercise dropped away.
Or so I thought.
I used to workout first thing in the morning. Now, that’s when I write. After a long day at work the last thing I wanted to do was go to the gym and work out. It’s the same excuse most people have. And it is valid. We are tired after work.
Most of the magazines and experts’ advice is to do your workout first thing so you can’t put if off. Yeah, it used to work. But now writing comes first.
So I tried to get myself re-inspired with working out. Ginger Calem commented on a post I wrote about walking and told me about CrossFit. I did some research online, followed her WritersButt blog posts, and decided to try it out.
CrossFit is basically a combination of strength training and cardio, using a lot of body-weight exercises like pushups and squats. I love lifting weights because it makes me feel strong and powerful. It’s the cardio that I find mind-numbingly boring. So I followed a couple of the workout routines (what they call WODs) that she suggested.
It was really hard, but really fun at the same time. I was sweating like crazy, and sore and worn out after twenty minutes. The perfect workout for me.
But no matter how much I liked the workout or how good I felt afterward, I still had trouble getting to the gym. It was like once my butt hit that seat in the car all I could think about was going home. And how good the couch would feel. Really, it was my butt’s fault. She is much stronger than I am.
And then I got an idea. I don’t remember how it came to me. I just knew.
I was good at all the prep work to get myself to the gym. I packed my bag the night before and kept it in the car all day. I downloaded the new music I was loving and made a new workout mix. Only to be listened to at the gym. My motivation was strong. I’d make it to the gym twice a week, and then my Butt would call it quits.
In the car. That was where the breakdown always happened.
At first it was just a silly thought: Maybe if I had a recording of someone saying “Go to the gym!” that I could play in the car I would make it there. But that was just silly. And I was too lazy or embarrassed to see if there was an app for that on my phone. So I went old school.
I grabbed a 3 x 5 notecard and fat Sharpie. I wrote: Get Your Ass to the Gym! in block letters. Then I worried about some kid looking through my car windows and asking their mommy why that lady has ass in her car. Even butt seemed a little crude, so I wrote it how I would really say it. Then I taped it to the center of my steering wheel.
Now every time I get in the car the white sign jumps out at me. It tells me to take my booty to the gym. And my booty listens. I guess she likes to be taken care of just as much as the rest of me.
Since I put that sign on my steering wheel I have been going to the gym five days a week, easily. I even went a sixth day this week because I wanted to. On a Saturday! I almost couldn’t believe it myself.
But my booty really does love working out. She just needed a sign.
How do you feel about exercise? Do you love going to the gym? What motivates you to work out?
I have a friend who is newly single and trying out internet dating. Yeah, I know what most people mean by “a friend”, but I’m telling the truth. This time. I am living vicariously, though, as I hear all the tales of dates good and bad. But I’m also starting to notice a troubling pattern.
My friend has been ignoring herself.
She has told me about guys who have great jobs and sound perfect on paper, while rolling her eyes. She knows before she even meets them that they are not the right guys for her. But she goes out with them anyway because, what if she’s wrong?
The thing is, we usually know right away.
I have dated my fair share of wrong-for-me guys. And I always knew they were wrong from the first Hello. But they were so cute, or so funny, and one had a bedroom voice that made every woman within three feet want to take off her clothes.
So I ignored that little voice in the back of my head and that tight, uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
At first I could pretend I was happy. I was in a relationship. He was everything I was supposed to want. Who cared if we didn’t really click or our values didn’t mesh? I was having fun and giving him a chance.
But I always ended up at the same place: having to choose between myself and the relationship. Luckily, I always choose me. But it would be easier if I’d just listen and trust myself in the beginning.
If we stop and think about it, it works the same way with friends. All of my closest friendships happened with an instant spark. Sure, some of them took a while before we actually spoke. One of my Besties wore clogs and knitted. She assumed I was stuck up because I’m shy and I wear high heels. (Really, you wouldn’t believe the strange assumptions people make about me because I like to wear heels, but that’s a different topic.) We kept our distance because of our differences, but the first time we talked, we both knew. Instant BFF’s, just add water. Actually, it’s martinis for us. We clicked instantly and knew we would be life-long friends. There was no question about it.
My newest friend and I met on the first day of work. At one of those cheesy get to know each other lunches. It was almost like our eyes met across the room and drew us together. But, really we were sitting at the same table. She made some sarcastic wise-crack and I answered back. That was all it took. We knew we were made for each other.
We have all been to parties and met other women we just knew weren’t destined to be our friends. We meet, we talk, we don’t click. We walk away. We don’t even really think much about it.
So why is it so hard with men?
When it comes to meeting men we don’t seem to listen to our intuition. And if we do listen, we just ignore it anyway. We may not know right away if he is our perfect partner, but we usually know when he isn’t the one.
My friend was sighing and rolling her eyes when she talked about the guy. She knew, she just didn’t listen. So she went out on the date and was bored out of her mind. And she couldn’t believe it when the guy wanted to go out with her again. Because their date was that boring. Thankfully, she listened to herself after that, and told the guy it just wasn’t working. She trusted that she didn’t need another boring date to know she was right.
It took her awhile to trust what she knew all along.
I don’t know if we think of romantic relationships as more important than friendships, so we give guys a chance that we wouldn’t give to each other. Or maybe we’re too excited about the idea of a date to stop and listen to ourselves.
Whatever the reason, I’m moving beyond it. From now on when I really know something, I am going to trust it. Even if he has a really cute smile.
Do you trust your intuition when it comes to friendships? What about romantic relationships? If you are married, how soon did you know that he was the one?
There is a famous quote I remember hearing since I was a kid. Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach.
I never thought much about it. Really, who sits around thinking about quotes and what they mean? Definitely not me. But it popped into my head recently as I realized just how backward it is.
Not everyone can teach. Just because you can do something, and do it well, doesn’t mean you can teach someone else to do it.
My first lesson with this came when I was fifteen. I was so excited to get my drivers permit. I asked my mom if she would teach my how to drive and she said yes. Yes was not something my mother said often, so I was more excited than usual.
Well, she decided that the DMV parking lot would be the best place for me to start learning. Right after the test. We walked out to the car and she told me to get in the driver’s seat. For the first time. Then she said, “Put the car in reverse.”
Huh? I had no idea what she was talking about. I should probably mention that her car was a stick shift, although I didn’t understand that at the time. I actually hadn’t spent much time in cars. I was a latch-key kid starting in third grade and if I couldn’t get somewhere by bus or walking, I usually didn’t go. Everything inside of a car was relatively new to me.
So, my mother reached over and pushed my foot onto the clutch, I learned later what it was called, and guided my hand to slide the shift into reverse. Then I pushed on the gas pedal and the car jumped backward, hard, before it shook and then stopped moving all together.
After a few more tries and failures, I made it out of the parking lot and onto the street. It’s scary to think about now. I went a few feet forward on a not so busy street, the car shaking and lurching the whole way. My mother was curled in the fetal position half way on her seat, half way on the floor in front of her. She finally yelled, “Pull the car over!” And I did.
I got out of the driver’s seat, shaking, and decided I didn’t want to drive that much. Not if that was what learning was like. The bus wasn’t so bad, after all.
My mother is good at many things, but teaching is not one of them.
As an adult I have taken classes and workshops from many different people. Some were good, some were okay, and some were so bad I wished I could have asked for my time and money back.
With the last bad class I’ve taken, I actually did learn a big lesson: not everyone can teach. It seems so simple. But, sometimes we assume that if someone is good at something, they’ll be able to teach us how to do it. We would be wrong.
It takes an entire extra set of skills to teach someone, even something you know how to do. The truth is, it is much easier to do than it is to teach.
I am really good at doing eye make-up. I enjoy it and I get compliments all the time. I do a good job. But if you ask me to teach you how to do your own make-up? I’ll say no. It’s just easier to tell you to close your eyes and do it myself.
Now, I’m ok with trying a class and seeing how it goes. But, if I realize that the teacher can’t actually teach, I don’t feel bad bowing out. I don’t have to try and finish a class when all I will end up with is frustration. Maybe I’m spoiled with knowing too many good teachers. But it’s not worth my time or money to try and learn from someone who only knows how to do.
So, I’m officially changing the quote: Those who can’t teach, do.
And, really, that’s ok. We should all stick with what we’re good at. The doers should keep on doing, and the teachers should keep on teaching. We just need to learn to spot the difference between the two. We can’t expect to learn from someone who can’t teach.
Yes, my mother can drive. No, she couldn’t teach me how to. So I kept looking for a teacher. My best friend’s mother ended up being that person. And, yes, I learned how to drive. Eventually, I even conquered the stick shift, without my mother.
There are plenty of teachers out there. We just have to keep looking.
Have you taken classes from people who couldn’t teach? Do you like to teach? Or do you prefer to do?
Have you ever been to a picnic or bar-be-que where the food was so good you just kept piling it onto your paper plate? Even if you try to separate the sweet from the savory, when the plate gets really full everything ends up touching. The juice from the greens and the baked beans pools in the center and starts to seep through the paper. The piece of cornbread balanced on the rim is so close to falling off that you have to sit down right away. And put a napkin between you and the plate.
The food is good and you really want everything on there. But you know that it’s going to fold in the middle and everything will fall onto the ground if you try and put one more thing on your plate.
Well that is how life has been for me lately.
Trying to sell a house, find a job in a city on the other side of the country, and keep up the job I have now is already a lot. Then I add writing, working out, and oh yeah, sleeping and my plate is more than full.
Last week, I almost had a melt-down. A temper tantrum like a two year old. After working all day and then hitting the gym, I just didn’t have the energy to move furniture when I came home. So I sat down and cried. Then I called a friend.
She told me it was all going to be ok, and that I was normal to be stressed out. Then she gave me the best advice I’ve ever heard.
Just do one thing a day.
That’s it. It was like a great weight lifted off my shoulders and it was easier to breathe. I had worked out. That was one thing beyond my everyday tasks, so I considered myself done for the day.
I got out a piece of paper and made a list of everything I think I have to do. The list was long, and it will probably keep growing as I discover more things to be done. But I can get it done one thing at a time. One thing each day.
I know that I’m not going to give up writing. I can’t give up eating or sleeping, or working of course. But I don’t have to complete a to-do list everyday to feel productive. If I organize the closet today, take out the recycling tomorrow, and go to Goodwill the next day, by the end of the week I’ll have taken a good chunk off of my to-do list. And I’ll still have enough energy to smile.
One thing a day.
What do you do when your plate gets too full? Do you go, go, go until you drop? Or are you a baby steps person?