Tag: work

30 stories in 30 days: Unpacking No Novel November 2019

No Novel November is officially over! Here’s my debrief of the challenge, plus my personal takeaways and future plans.

A wild abstract design coming from the quill of a writer's pen - I am writing you a poem by archann via Deviant Art

I can’t believe I did it, you guys. 30 stories in 30 days (read them all here), and I only got behind once.

I learned so much.

So buckle up, kiddos, because it’s time for a debrief.

…not that kind, put your pants back on.

How it started

If I could produce a drawing every single day, maybe I could parlay that structure into writing.

The idea for No Novel November came to me during Inktober, when you do one drawing a day for a month. I tried it as a fun thing to do with my actual-artist sister-in-law, but not expecting anything from myself. About halfway through, I realized, “Hey, I can actually do this.” And I did!

The whole experience shifted my perspective of what’s creatively possible. Since choosing the stay-at-home-parent life, I’ve struggled mightily to continue even thinking of myself as a creative person, much less to generate any actual work. But if I could produce a drawing every day, maybe I could parlay that structure into writing.

November is traditionally National Novel Writing Month, but I knew my toddler-bound schedule wouldn’t let me write 1667 words each day to win. I had to find something else.

I considered drabble and six-word stories but found them too restrictive. Standard short stories were too long for daily production; same for flash.

Microfiction, though, had promise. Shorten it to 250 words (a page in editing terms), add a prompt list to springboard from, and it actually sounded doable.

I fished for interest on social media and was surprised so many people wanted in. NaNoWriMo can be daunting, and I appeared to have hit a vein of writers itching to stretch their muscles but who, like me, weren’t able (or motivated) to novel.

And thus No Novel November was born!

The challenge

I never expected so many people to play along, much less dedicate themselves to the challenge so wholeheartedly.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about how this went down was how many people jumped on board. I expected a handful of friends to join, but we wound up with 65 in the Facebook group and a handful more Twitterers—almost all people I don’t know!

When I realized that interest was way higher than anticipated, my Type 1 brain kicked in, and things shifted from “casual writing thing” to “official community event.” I wrote a miniseries about writing microfiction for the FB group, made shareables, created a couple hashtags, and even spooled up the ol’ dusty newsletter. Srsbzns.

All told, we had nearly 20 regular contributors, and several opened themselves up for critique. Reading everyone’s stories each day was by far my favourite part of the challenge. While I’d originally planned for that, I hadn’t planned on providing feedback for everyone who asked. Which I did. Daily. It was a hell of a lot more work than I bargained for, but truly a joy; the stories were so good and the writers so invested that I couldn’t not.

In the end, roughly 10 people “won” No Novel November. I never expected that many people to play along, much less dedicate themselves to the challenge so wholeheartedly. Even those who fell off the wagon along the way are insanely precious to me. The challenge was about just doing the dang thing, and they did! I’m bursting with den mother pride.

What I learned

If I could spin an entire world with characters and plot in 250 words in under an hour, what other projects could I undertake?

This challenge took the revelation I had with Inktober, slammed it down on the table, and demanded another round from the bartender. In October, I realized I could create something every day; November opened my eyes to the larger implications of reliably generating new, complete stories every single day within strict limitations. If I could spin an entire world with characters and plot in 250 words in under an hour (and not always all at once), what other projects could I undertake?

I could write mini posts every day.
I could write a microfic once a week.
I could write a flashfic once a month.
I could finish Apple of Chaos in a year.
I could do all of those things at once.

Whoa.

For the past 60 days, I’ve done what I’d thought was impossible. This challenge showed me how I’ve been limiting myself and opened up a world of possibility that’s both tantalizing and daunting. Rather than diving in headlong, like I usually do, I’m taking my time to see what develops. It’s all too glorious to look at directly.

Also, doing 30 days of feedback for 4-6 people was like boot camp for my consultation and editing skills: grueling at times, but oh so satisfying in the end. I loved the puzzle of each story, looking for its gems and pitfalls, then presenting them to the author in a loving, yet professional way; I loved their delight at finding the potential in their own work even more.

What was most revealing, though, is that I never got tired of doing it. I seemed to have boundless patience and energy for reading and critiquing, asking questions and finding answers. And if I’ve learned anything about finding your path, that’s the neon sign pointing you in the right direction.

Going forward

I can do more. I can write more. And I’m going to.

You might have noticed that I failed to post three of the 30 stories here on the blog and missed even more social media. Never fear! Those stories will have another life in the near future. I can’t say more because I promised the newsletter crew they’d hear first (so get on it if you want to hear secrets), but it’s gonna be good.

I’m also spending some time meditating on what to do next. I love the idea of a Fiction Friday here on the blog, and y’all know how I feel about Apple of Chaos being undone. But there’s also a part of me that wants to do spiritual writing. I know there’s a place for all of that somewhere; I just don’t know where yet.

What I do know is that I can do more. I can write more. And I’m going to.

No Novel November 2019 WInner Badge

PS: For those of you asking, YES, this will be an annual thing. No Novel November will ride again in 2020! I bought the URL and everything.

ALSO: I suspect we’ll do another microfiction challenge in March or May for alliteration, so stay tuned.

Turns out I don’t hate fall anymore (but it took some doing)

I’ve always dreaded fall because it leads inevitably to winter, when my creativity hibernated under my depression. But this year, it’s different. This year, I’m free.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall - comic by Rachel Greenberg at WholesomeNSuchArt

This fall is different.

I can feel it in the sharp slice of the air, smell it in the not-yet-moldering carpet of leaves, taste it in the vanilla caramel pastries. The sound of a lonely, optimistic ice cream truck trawling the neighborhood evokes a smile rather than a sigh.

Years ago, I discovered that my energy and creativity ebb and flow with the seasons. Maximum productivity in summer; gradual slowing in fall; hibernation in winter; reemerging in spring. One season feeds the next, my internal calendar matching up with nature’s.

Once I noticed this innate rhythm, I intentionally wove it into my work. I wrote furiously in summer, launched and scheduled in fall, dreamed in winter, then spooled up again in spring. By knowing when I had energy (and when I didn’t), I could work with my natural flow. I could stop fighting myself and have ease all year instead.

And it felt so good.

Unfortunately, boss-level productivity was not the only side effect of this realization.

Rather than enjoying the fullness of each season, I started to dread fall because I knew what came after it.

Winter, with its hibernative atmosphere, not only put my creative energy to bed, but tucked it in with a smothering blanket of depression. Grey skies and bitter winds followed me everywhere. I often wouldn’t leave the house for a week at a time, sleeping to avoid thinking about how little I was accomplishing, holding on to hope as I crossed days off the calendar until spring when I could be reborn.

Knowing it was coming didn’t help. Predictability isn’t so great when you know you’re about to go down for six months (yay, Canada).

So for the last several years, I’ve hated fall. Not because of anything it did to me personally, but because of what it heralded.

But more than leaves change when you have a kid.

Since Mackenzie came along, I’ve had to do things differently. Basic stuff like showering and grocery shopping, sure, but also creative work. My desire to write raised its head again long before I found my feet as a SAHM. At first, I didn’t know what to do with it. My preferred way of working—six uninterrupted hours of butt-in-seat, Monday to Friday—didn’t mesh with baby life.

It took me a year to accept that, if I wanted to write, I’d have to be flexible. (All the Ones in the house said, “OH NO.”) I started writing in smaller chunks, experimenting with different times of day, leaving myself notes, not trying to write a novel again (yet). Piece by piece over the last year, a different method of working has fallen into place. I discovered I actually could adapt to a new flow; I even realized I was okay with having no flow at all.

And, because everything is connected, once I embraced that, my attitude towards winter changed.

Forcing myself to bend in new ways to continue writing opened up the possibility that I could still work in the winter. Despite the low energy, despite the oppressive weather, despite my self. If I could completely upend what I thought I needed to be productive in spring and summer, what else could be transformed come the winter?

Suddenly, the season of hibernation held no anxiety for me.

Sure, I still hate being cold and the snow can go back to the Arctic thankyouverymuch, but when I look ahead, down the barrel of another Canadian winter, I’m not worried about it. I may still feel like a grouchy, sleepy bear, but writing is possible. Living is possible. I know that I can do it. Even if it’s slow.

Which brings us back to this fall.

I knew I was free from the cycle of dread when I walked outside on a cool morning in early September, filled my lungs with the sweet, sad air and said, “Man, I wish we could go apple picking.” I was even cheerful about getting out the sweaters and putting away the shorts.

Who even am I.

Because winter doesn’t equate death for me anymore, I can experience the wonder of this season. The escarpment is blazing beautiful with the last fireworks of maples and elms. Spicy tea and coffee warm me inside and out. A tinge of melancholy in the air reminds me to be present, for everything in this world is passing away—and will be reborn.

All this to say, I’m enjoying that I’m enjoying fall.

Finally.

The State of the Ellie: September 2019

Delays, immigration, getting swole, the next novel, and 10kg of flour.

Gonna try something a little different, folks. I usually approach these as a comprehensive walkthrough of the previous month, but to be honest, it’s exhausting trying to remember all the tiny details.

So this time, we’re going off the top of the ol’ noggin. If you and me sat down over coffee and said, “So, how are you?” this is what I’d say.

Florida keeps changing and it’s making me insane.

The second part is a slight exaggeration, but the first part is 100% true.

We signed up for this adventure in January, aimed to leave for August 1, listened to wisdom and bumped to November 1, then Lino’s visa paperwork got accepted last week (way faster than we thought—woo!) and now, because of the way we filed, we’re here until question marks. Could be before Thanksgiving; could be after New Year’s. We just. don’t. know. *retching sounds of a control freak trying to get a hold of herself*

And while we’re happy that we’re not rushing around in a panic to sell/pack/move stuff and that we do get to say our goodbyes (unlike some of our fellow adventurers), it’s hard being left behind. Every delay, every change of plans, there’s another twinge of doubt about whether or not we’re actually supposed to go. I don’t want to live in the meantime.

But it’s not up to me. I meant it when I said that even if we are driving away in the moving van and that’s when God says to stop, we’re not going, then I’m okay with it. I might be angry and broken down for a while, but in the end, I know that I’ll be grateful for the process once I get to the other side of disappointment. I always am.

I am not grateful, however, to be staring down the barrel of another Canadian winter. Why, Lord?

American immigration is complicated.

Having gone through the Canadian system for myself and the citizenship-claiming process for Mack this year, I can confidently say that the US process is the most arcane of the three. There are so many grey areas and straight-up contradictory statements in the documentation that’s supposed to help you. I’ve shed more tears over this application than I have over Artax in the Swamp of Sadness.

There’s a reason for it, though. Every single family that’s going to the States has ended up taking a different route to residency—that’s not a coincidence. Neither is the fact that literally every adult on the team is now an immigrant, whether US–>CA or vice versa (or both). It’s become evident that God is using this process to tenderize our hearts with compassion for the people we’ll meet in Florida. While our exact situations may not be the same, we’ll get it in a way that a lot of other folks won’t.

Legal and political stances aside, I just keep thinking about someone’s 80-year-old abuela who needs cancer treatment trying to figure out all this crap. No wonder people sneak in. Desperation is a powerful motivator.

I signed back up at the gym!

I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER, YOU GUYS. There’s still a little stiffness and physical crabbiness going on, but like 90% less. I’m so glad I listened to my body telling me to move and didn’t get (too) caught up in guilt for spending money when things are so tight.

I also discovered that despite not working out for four months and being super not attentive to my eating, I barely gained any weight AND after only three weeks back at it, I’m nearly back to my previous lifts. *flexes mightily*

I confess that I’m in a bit of a transition phase, though. When I originally signed on, my goal was to shed extra weight. That’s almost taboo to say that these days, but it’s true. I felt sluggish and uncomfortable in my body, and between working out and changing how I ate, the weight came off. But then my surgery happened. Going back now, I have to change my goals—trying to lose weight would be dipping back into the pool of dysfunction. So for now, I’m gently shifting my focus to endurance (run a mile without stopping) and strength (move from machines to deadlifts). It sounds small, but it’s huge for me as someone who’s struggled with body dysmorphia, anorexia, and bulemia for the better part of twenty years.

Gonna get swole.

Is that still what we say? Swole?

Provision.

I already knew this but had forgotten, and now God is using this lean financial time to remind me: Need expands to your resources. While we’re living on 30% of what we had this time last year (or four months ago), somehow, there’s always enough. I do our books, and I do not understand how we’re not defaulting, bouncing, and overdrafting constantly. We just…aren’t. There’s always enough. It truly is miraculous. It’s also made us pissed at ourselves that we’re still drowning in debt after living so high for so many years and somehow barely making it. Shameful.

Even if we don’t end up in Florida and the only thing God is doing with this whole thing is teaching us to steward our finances better, then so be it.

Freelance work is stretching me, and I want more.

That being said, I am still looking for new, cool people to work with. My best work is done when I’m helping other writers accomplish their book-creating goals, and I’m dying to grow this wing of my business.

If you (or anyone you know) wants a battle buddy for a creative project, please do drop me a line, m’kay?

I’ve also been working with Rebilly as a Real Copywriter, which is so far out of my comfort zone that it seems to have looped all the way around to become doable. I’m deeply grateful my handler/boss gave me a chance despite my utter newbieness and for all their grace, patience, and teaching. It’s giving me new skills with which to build both the Kingdom and my family’s foundation for the future. Bless.

Forgotten Relics is on my mind.

(If you have no idea what Forgotten Relics is, don't feel bad. Short version: I used to write urban fantasy novels, and I quit just before getting pregnant and haven't been able to finish the last book of the series since. I promise to write about this someday.)

I re-read Mirror of Ashes last month, and you know, guys, that book is actually pretty good. I know writers aren’t supposed to say that about their own work, but it just IS. When it came out, a reader told me it’s the best book I’ve ever written—I didn’t believe them until last week. I wrote it at the height of my career, when I was the most engaged and fluid with my work than ever before, but I was also totally burnt out from the sheer pace I’d been operating at for three years. I didn’t want to quit; I had to quit. It was eating my soul alive. I shudder to think how wretched I’d be now if I hadn’t stopped when I did, especially given how much internal work I had to do to prepare for parenthood shortly after.

But Cora and Jack and Sofi and Manny are still with me. Even Wex and Samir and Eris. The world lives on. And I’ve carried this burden of needing to tell the rest of the story and finally closing that door with honor for the past four years.

And yet, something’s in the way besides the obvious barriers of time, energy, and braincycles natural to the SAHM with a toddler. A staticky heaviness that materializes any time I open the Apple of Chaos notebook or scratch out a paragraph in the file. Anxiety of some kind. I don’t know if it’s a warning (“it’s not time yet”) or a challenge (“rise above”), but I’m still pushing, still testing, still wanting. We shall see.

Miscellaneous: Not everything is a neat sentence.

  • I am feeling Fall this year. Usually, it makes me sad—my heart is a heart of spring—but there’s a loveliness in the air this go-round that’s got me smiling and thinking all things are possible. You, too?
  • Did you see the massive bag of flour I bought? I’ve been baking all our bread, plus being the dessert person for any dinners we have/go to, and I was going through those normal-human-sized bags every other week. This was quadruple the amount for half the price. I think this officially makes me a Real Baker? Anyone need a cake?
  • I can’t with this Murakami book. I heard “The Second Bakery Attack” a while back, then got the collection as a gift, but for whatever reason, his “wild, imaginative genius” is not clicking for me. What am I missing?!
  • I do not PSL. Just in case you were wondering.

That’s it for me! Now it’s your turn.

Take a nice, long sip of that beverage and tell me how you are doing lately. What’s been going on in your world these last few weeks?

State of the Ellie: August 2019

A (not so) brief summary of my July. Featuring a nagging case of FOMO, professional maturity, toddler attitude, and being bored with my health updates.

Another Way by Justin Peters - A man in a black leather jacket holds an umbrella with a road and landscape on top

The State of the Ellie is a monthly reflection on what’s been going on in my world for the last 30ish days.

Since the last one was late, this month’s update is of the quick ‘n’ dirty variety to avoid belaboring past points. Also, while July wasn’t calendar-busy, it was internally busy, so buckle up.

Florida

The news here is the same as last time: we’re shooting for November. As we get closer to Thanksgiving, I’m sure things will get nuts again, but for now, we’re back in hurry-up-and-wait mode. Which has given me existential whiplash. It took me a while to figure out why I’ve been feeling so tender, distracted, and lost after the timeline shift, but it’s so obvious now. We were running full tilt getting ready to go for August, then had a concrete wall slam down in front of us. Of course I’m discombobulated—going from 100 to 0 hurts.

I’m also coping with a nagging case of FOMO (as inadvertently evidenced by the story I wrote last week). Most of our team is heading south this month, and frankly, I’m jealous. The delay in our departure makes sense (for more than just immigration purposes—see “Family” below), but there is a huge part of me that just wants to go. To be there, to be starting. There’s another, crappier part of me that’s sulking about feeling left out. I know God’s using this to root out pride and abandonment issues, which is good, but uggggghhhhh. Unpleasant. Right now, I’m choosing to be excited for everyone else and to be as patient as possible until our number is called. It’s not how long you wait but your attitude while waiting that counts, right?

Work

There’s a serious leveling up happening here right now. While I don’t have a full slate of clients (yet), the work I’m doing with them, the way I handle my schedule, and even the rates I charge are morphing from wobbly-legged amateur to sort-of-confident professional person. I’m taking on challenges that make me uncomfortable but not uneasy. I’m valuing my time and skills more. I’m finding new ways, places, and times to work that seemed impossible five years ago.

I’m growing, you guys.

There’s still a fair amount of chaos, and I’m still looking for clients, but there’s a new undercurrent of competency I’ve never felt in my business life before. And I kinda like it.

Also: I wrote my first fiction last week for the first time in two years. I had to double check the dates because that doesn’t seem real. I miss it so much. I have tons of story ideas, and I want so badly to finish Forgotten Relics. But I can’t seem to pull my mental/creative/temporal shit together. Then I fall into the comparison trap—“XYZ author person writes all their novels while working 40 hours a week and homeschooling their five kids and…”—you know. Anyway. The desire is there. I can’t make any promises, but I will say there’ve been inklings in my prayer time that full-blown fiction is returning. Someday.

Family

Less than a week after we had to delay Florida, we found out why we needed to: Lino’s mom was rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night with heart issues that resulted in her getting a pacemaker. I’ll spare the long story, but the upshot is that we’re really glad we decided to stay. She’s facing a lot of changes in her life that we need (want!) to be present for and to support. On top of that, my sister-in-law is expecting her second baby mid-August, so we get to be present for and to support her through that newborn season, too. So it turned out that what we’d been angsting about as a setback to building the Kingdom was actually a green light (reminder) to be doing it here, now.

Parenting

I always feel like I should have so much more to write here. How do those mommybloggers do it?!

Each month that goes by intensifies Mackenzie’s toddlerness. The last couple of weeks, her attitude has ratcheted up to teenage Valley Girl levels, including once telling her daddy “don’t worry about what I’m doing and mind your own business.” I….what. We’re at a bit of a loss as to how to discipline that, but are doing our best to be consistent with what we know to do. We also suspect that, after six months of not needing a nap, she might need one again. The couple of times we made her lay down due to a late night, her attitude was markedly improved. Hrm….*strokes beard*

Also (TMI ALERT): Mack’s big accomplishment this month is that she all the sudden decided to start pooping on the little potty in the morning and then get right back in bed to wait for her wakeup call. WHAT. She’s been daytime trained since May, but we’ve purposely not started night training because we don’t want to deal with any stress-based regressions in the mattress department due to moving. But, hey, if she wants to poop on the potty, I’m all for it.

Health

Guys, I’m so bored with this category. It’s one of the regulars, but honestly, it’s the same stuff all the time. Cold symptoms, aching joints, weird stuff doctors don’t care much about because it isn’t bad enough. Blah, blah, blah. You guys deserve better than this. Suffice to say, I’m on sinus infection #2 of the year. Two more and the ENT will give a crap about what I say. Hooray?

Miscellaneous

  • My reading life is picking up! I wrestled that Tolkien to the ground, finally, and rewarded myself with Redshirts and a few YA graphic novels I randomly grabbed at the library. Going on to Murakami shorts next. Gotta retrain my flabby brain after four years of basically just reading nutritional labels.
  • Our local libraries show movies for free in the afternoon, and we’re taking Mack to train her up to go to the Real Theatre. Moana tomorrow. Let’s see if she can sit still for the whole thing.
  • It’s starting to be too dark at 5:30am for me to safely walk our neighborhood. This makes me sad because a) I need to exercise, and b) it reminds me that winter is coming. Argh. I might have to find some room in the budget to get back to the gym.

That’s it for me this month! Now it’s your turn.

Jump in the comments to tell me how YOUR July went and what you’ve got planned for August.

State of the Ellie: July 2019

The (not so) brief summary of my June. Featuring a revised timeline, freelancing joy, receiving help with grace, and nothing being wrong with my hearing apparently.

A grey short hair cat with a takeout box on its head that says "supreme"

The State of the Ellie is a monthly reflection on what’s been going on in my world for the last 30ish days (a bit delayed this month because life).

I don’t know about you, but my June was IN-SANE. Just looking back at my day planner is stressing me out, and it’s stuff I’ve already done.

Let’s see if I can break down the madness into bite-sized chunks.

Florida

Honestly, not a lot happened with this in June. Which is sort of the refrain of this year’s song. We continued to prune our house and make arrangements with doctors, etc, but aside from the plan finally going public, we had to pause everything for the vow renewal (see below). I’ve certainly grown a lot in terms of being able to spin more plates than ever, but handling an international move and a (re)wedding at the same time is too much for one human.

BUT! We spoke with our pastors and an immigration lawyer this week, and yada yada yada we’re staying in Hamilton at least until November 1–together. (And this could get changed again, depending on processing times.)

Which, I realized after having a meltdown about more delays, is actually a relief. Now we don’t have to DO ALL THE THINGS in the next three weeks, plus we’ll be here when my new niece arrives. And, you know, not splitting up the family for an indefinite amount of time is certainly a bonus.

Work

Is it unprofessional to say I’m shocked at how well this is going? Because I am a bit. Since going freelance in May, I’ve started working with a handful of clients who have super interesting, fun projects on the go, and I love that I get to help them bring their writing babies into the world! I even made each one their own themed Trello board. And now that Lino is home, he and I split the childcare week, meaning I get three whole days to do whatever I want (read: work like I’m on fire), so although I’m busy, I’m also more productive and more peaceful than I have been in my working life for a long time.

There’s room to grow, though! I’m always looking for editing and writing gigs, and there are only 3 consultation spots available. If you or someone you know needs a boost on their writing project, let’s talk!

Money

This part is…less good. While I’m bringing more to the table these days, June saw Lino’s last official paycheck after being laid off. He’s applied for employment insurance, but it hasn’t started yet, and our savings are dwindling. We’re cobbling together a best-case scenario for both of us to work, pay the bills, have Mack taken care of, and also prepare for the eventual exodus. It’s a lot. And we’re scared. But. Some embarrassingly-kind people have stepped in to help us out: two gave us unsolicited grocery cards, one threw huge bags of frozen meat at us and ran away, many are inviting us over for dinner. God is taking care of us. We might be living way closer to the edge of disaster than we’re comfortable with, but that’s where He does His best work.

Parenting

Mackenzie continues to be three. The fact that I can’t think of much in the way of wins and losses tells me that either I’m getting acclimatized to toddler life or I’ve lost my mind. Our day to day is a whirlwind of activities, meltdowns, laughter, half-eaten food, and wondering if I can get away without bathing her for another day because it’s already so late and she doesn’t smell like pee so it should be fine right. I will say she’s loving having Daddy home on the regular, although it’s been quite a mental adjustment for Lino. He’s gone from a high-stress corporate management job handling hundreds of employees and millions of dollars to a high-stress small human management job with one employee and no dollars. He loves it, though. They’re so stinkin’ cute together.

Love

Of everything that happened in June, our 10-year anniversary and vow renewal was far and away the best. There was a fair amount of drama leading up to it–mostly because I panicked and bought a totally different dress, then had the tailoring adventure of a lifetime and didn’t get it until the day before the ceremony–but! like all major events you plan yourself, once the day rolled around, everything went perfectly. Keep your eyes peeled for an awww-inducing post as soon as the photos are ready.

My favourite part, though, wasn’t the ceremony or the party. It was the next day when my husband turned to me after a long silence and said, “I know it’s stupid because it’s not actually different, but it just feels different today, you know?” Nothing could have made me happier. Because it is different. That’s the whole point.

Health

On one hand, I’m happily exercising sans gym by doing physio stretches and walking around the stadium weekday mornings (thank you, 5am Club). On the other hand, the ENT appointment I waited four months for to diagnose my constant low-grade cold symptoms and a slow but appreciable hearing loss turned up exactly nothing. I managed to hold it together afterward just long enough to make it to the bathroom where I burst into tears that didn’t stop until I got back to my car. I have a history of being “too early” with things happening to/in my body; I report illnesses and wonkiness long before it’s of concern to doctors. And this is no exception, it seems. I was given a prescription for FloNase and welcomed to being middle aged. It broke my heart. For now, I suppose I’ll keep going to the doc too early and asking people to talk louder until the day it’s bad enough to get help.

That’s it for me this month! Tune in the first week of August to hear how July went.

Now it’s your turn!
Share your June thoughts and July plans in the comments.