Well, This Is Awkward

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Hello. Remember me?

I used to write things here, and then I disappeared for what appears to have been several presidential administrations.

I’d like to say I spent that time traveling the world, finding myself, or developing a deeply impressive spiritual practice. In reality, I was mostly working, caregiving, arguing with technology, and trying to find the password for my Netflix account.

I’m writing regularly again, but I’ve moved the new material over to Substack, where my newsletter is called Notes on Not Screaming.

It’s humor about making sense of adulthood, caregiving for my mom, relationships, dogs, and other situations for which I feel there should have been training.

You can read and follow me here:

Visit Notes on Not Screaming

It’s free to subscribe, although paid subscriptions are also available for anyone who feels strongly that I should be financially rewarded for not screaming in public.

I’d love to see you there. Especially since I’ve finally remembered how to log into this website.

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty… 

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I want a cat. 

There, I’ve said it. Proclaimed my intent to the Universe. Although I’m only willing to accept moderate blame when events transpire to actually bring a cat into my life. 

I have no business getting a cat. A few strong reasons off the top of my head include: 

  1. I’m allergic.
  2. My lease doesn’t currently allow for pets.
  3. I’m allergic.
  4. I’M NEVER HOME. This poor animal would be alone 80% of the time.
  5. The last thing I need are more expenses in my life.
  6. Did I mention that I’m allergic?

And yet. 

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So, You Know About the Atlanta Traffic, Right?

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When I began sharing the news that I had taken a new job near Atlanta and was moving . . . spreading my wings. .  . opening myself to new horizons. . . without fail the first comment from almost everyone was, “OMG. You know about the traffic there, right?”

Yes, I am aware of the traffic. Thank you for your loving concern and support.

So how bad is it really? Having lived here now for three months, I can tell you that the 12-mile drive to my office from home can take anywhere between. . .

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Will Run for Friends

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One of the hardest decisions in moving to Atlanta was knowing I would be leaving behind my 25-year network of friends. These are friends that saw me through job changes (insurance adjuster, librarian, author, marketing maven), life changes (divorce, moves, dating), as well as were there for everything from my first published book to my first marathon to holding my hand when my cat died. A lot of years, a lot tears, much more laughter, and oodles and oodles of love. 

In other words—not something easily replaced. 

Of course, I’m not “leaving behind” friends but since the five-hour drive between Atlanta and Greensboro isn’t convenient for a quick movie or fro-yo meet-up, the burden is on me to make new friends. 

The obvious place to make friends, for me, is the gym. I joined a big-ass Lifetime Fitness...

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