I have quite a few followers now, almost two thousand. Thanks for that. I am actually surprised how many people are interested in my ordinary life. I’m just a single mom. A baker and a barista. A girlfriend. A middle-aged American woman living in the Midwest, but it looks like a lot of you can relate to my life. And that’s the reason I write. So you can read these small words, and know you’re not alone.
Sometimes we have something floating around in our head that we don’t even know is there until we read it somewhere. I like that. To write is to unveil, all that is within us. To unmask the deep and hidden things we forget are lurking within us.
I don’t know why it’s so, but to get them out into words brings relief. I write to show you that we’re all just doing the best we can and it’s going to be okay. I write to give you some hope. I don’t mean to say that writing is the only form of freedom and peace, I know it’s not, but it’s become my medicine and the medicine of many.
When I don’t write, I often feel shitty. It’s been about a month. I have been so busy with the new job. It is such a challenge. I went from sitting on a stool in a coffee kiosk for five hours a day to standing and moving around for 8–9 hours a day. I realize that’s typical for most working American’s, but it’s not for me. I have worked part-time practically my entire adult life.
