treat yo self 2014

I hate new year’s resolutions. 

This is completely counterintuitive.  All signs point to the conclusion that I should love them.  I love goals!  I love lists!  I love accountability!  I love declaring things loudly via voice and social media mechanisms!

But (spoiler alert … Debbie Downer is about to make an appearance) … I feel like making some bold statement about renewal and joy and health and spirituality at a time of the year that you likely feel your most exhausted, slovenly, and commercialized is just setting up for a ride on the big old disappointment train, leaving the station some time around January 20th (if I am being generous).

Rock bottom may be a great catalyst for many people (and many AA groups) … but it just isn’t doing it for me.

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state of the house: the formerly pink room

You know when you are supposed to start the week with a blog post and then your wife forgets to close the back door and so the cat escapes?

No?  Hmm.

Well this is apparently an exciting event that we call “Monday” in our house.  So yesterday involved less blogging and more heart-pumping cat-chasing antics than expected.

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fake it til you make it

It has been a while.  Obv.

I have missed the blog.

I have also missed sleeping.  So with work and travel only leaving time for one of the above, guess what I chose.  The massive bags under my eyes might make you think otherwise.  I would say they were earned from mothering a diva cat – except that I fear the wrath of all human mothers (of humans).

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