My WaPo

I really do have trouble with this. Writing, for me, has been a therapy exercise. In execution and publication. The Write is therapy for getting out the things that are stuck in my head and trip me up as they linger there. The Publication is therapy for a couple of my fears: Recognition and the…

“Really? That’s really what you would do?”— When your kid goes rogue.

Going rogue:  exhibiting maverick-like behavior, or bucking the status quo—  Merriam-Webster My 16 year old daughter is one smart cookie.  Maybe not your honor-roll, chemistry and math-loving type smart, but she is certainly up there in functional brain activity. School is not for her, and she’s spent the past two years of her life proving…

Because It’s Never Done

Time. My most hated word. The keeper of all that disgusts me. My arch-enemy of all arch-enemies. Yet I can never get enough of it. I’m always looking for more; desperate, scraping, scrounging, like after some narcotic that promises relief. I can never hold on to it; it slips away, through my fingers, my toes,…

The Welfare Goddess

It appears that I’m going to have to write about this.  Maybe if I do, the screaming in my head will cease. One can only hope. Before I get started, I have to come clean about something that is not easy for me, and that I have been thinking about doing for over a year. …

Without today’s technology, how would I know where I am tomorrow?

So yesterday was the perfect “myunexcusedlife” example.  Exactly why I started this blog, to be honest.  You know, the kind where you think you never should have gotten out of bed.  Except that I never went to bed to begin with–I worked my night shift at the hospital Sunday night.  So let’s make that an…

To the moms of my future sons’ in law:

I have five daughters. Oh, God. I have five daughters. Now, I’ve had 9 years to realize this, why it’s not hitting me fully until today, I’m not sure. Oh, wait. I was talking to Abby again. Which got me thinking. Of course. Abby is 14 and just now starting to think about men. Woah,…

We are not poor, we are financially disabled!

As with most things I write about, the idea of “financially disabled” came about during a discussion I was having with my one of my daughters. See if you can keep up, in most of my conversations with Abby, doing so is no easy feat.  Abs came into my room all excited and wondering what…