This Blog Post Survived A Torpedo of Cat Puke

I don’t really believe in click-baity titles. And honestly, I’m no good at them. So you can rest assured that the title of this blog post is nothing but accurate.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve sat down to write for you. I know, I promised weekly content and I haven’t been able to hold up my end of the deal. There you are, waiting patiently and eagerly for that notification email telling you I’ve posted new content, growing increasingly sad and lonely, and I’m over here like “It’s back to school week! The sky is falling! I don’t know what to do with two of the three kids out of the house!” But I digress…


Image result for images about back to school mom

During the previous school year, I made a promise. I told myself (and my friends, and my family, and my yoga app) that I wasn’t going to take on any leadership roles or unneccessary responsibilities and I would whole-heartedly work on myself. You see, part of the reason I quit a full-time development director position was so that I could focus more of my time on the kids, my health, and so that I could start a freelance writing business and really make a go of it.

And look at me! I sure did. However, I did NOT keep my promise. I did NOT say no to leading a board of volunteers at my daughter’s school when I had every reason to do so (y’all remember, I just had a baby…like I made a tiny human and then brought him home). Then I said yes to chairing a group of parents at my synagogue (which I love with all my heart, but still…leadership role!)

Image result for funny leadership quotes

So here I am, sitting at my computer, lamenting that I don’t have time to write, or give my website attention, or crank out a simple blog post every week, and BAM my cat torpedo vomits all over my work space just seconds after I swiftly maneuvered my laptop away from certain (disgusting) death. And I took it as a sign, y’all. Kind of like that scene in Under the Tuscan Sun when the bird poops on Diane Lane.

When you make a promise to yourself and don’t keep it, your cat will remind you. And when your cat, sitting nearby, making those tell-tale, gutteral enunciations finally spews your broken promise back at you, you’ll vow never to do it again.

So this is me, coming back from the chaos of self-inflicted injury, trying to make amends. I am a writer. I move through life with a constant hum of ideas and “what ifs” swirling through my head. But my headspace needs room for other things. So I must write.



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