2021-06-05 Cliches About Time are Cliche Because of Their Truth

The push and pull of all these days blurs into a gravity that begs to be let go of. Time is relative. Emotions are relative. Thoughts are relative. The next thing can only be measured against the last and the moment in time that lingers longer than it should, repeating itself in the mind, becomes greater as time passes. It’s natural.

Funny how the more you want to let it go, the harder it holds on and the harder you want to hold onto it, the faster it slips away. Why? I often think that I’m not ready to work on answers to the questions yet, because I’m still working on the questions. Maybe in my last minutes wandering this waking world I’ll come to understand the questions. Maybe then, and only then, I will feel ready for the answers. 

Since the funeral on Thursday, I’ve been replaying the same moment in my head over and over again. Each time I think maybe I can get through it without that emotional swell that brings me to tears. 

My mom and I arrived 20 minutes early for the funeral and there was no one in the receiving line before entering the main part of the chapel. Even before I saw the line, I could feel my emotions rising through my body, in my stomach, and up into my throat. By the time I was standing in front of my ex, i was already full and bursting from the eyes. I attempted to maintain my composure as I gave him a light hug and offered my condolences. 

Next was his mom, who I had been most worried about and felt very sad for. She hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear, she loves me, she’s glad I came, thanks for sending flowers, and that I’ve done a good job raising the kids. 

See, I can’t think of it now without tearing up again. 

I was worried and anxious and had nothing to worry about. I wish I had been more prepared. So many unsaid things are in my head and it’s too late for me to say them. So now they are stuck inside of me. And now I realize it’s too late, their “stuck-ness” hurts. 

I proceeded down the receiving line. Kristy, Wendy, Scott, and Larry. Family that used to be my family. Family that would be my family had I stayed married. Family that I was separated from suddenly and unnaturally. It was the toughest part of my divorce and standing there I was reduced to my younger self, broken and exposed and not knowing what to say. 

I hugged each person in turn, followed by my mom making easy casual conversation with folks the way she does. Why couldn’t I have inherited her easy social nature? 

We proceeded into the church and selected a spot near the back of the room. The service was nice. The personal portion was touching and the religious portion allowed me to splay my thoughts in different directions. 

My children were there, sitting with their cousins and though I said hello to them, it felt like I was approaching strangers, not really a part of that circle. They are all so grown up. The oldest cousin having children of his own now. That’s life. 

We didn’t stay for the reception after. My mom was in a hurry to get going. I almost regretted bringing her as I may have stayed longer if it wasn’t for her. It was probably for the best. I don’t really belong anyway and it would have been awkward. 

That was 2 days ago and that 120 second clip of navigating the interactions in that line will not stop replaying in my mind. Two mornings now I’ve woke up thinking about it. The words whispered, the embraces, the flood of emotions. It leaves me wondering what I will need to do to release myself from repeating that memory. That’s the question. 

I’ve told three people, and each time I began to get weepy and still that did not help. I’m hoping writing this will help. I guess we’ll see. Time will tell. 

Time heals and time wounds. Time is forgiving and cruel. Time keeps its secrets until it’s too late, revealing the questions when the answers no longer matter. 

My former father-in-law is gone and I can no longer tell him how I feel about him and how much he means to me, my memories locked inside because I’m not able to sit around the table with the family and reminisce. 

I can’t reach back in time and change anything. I can’t rewind and ask my grandfather about his life. I can’t stay in touch with Stacey and convince her life is worth sticking around for or change the way I treated KS. Life goes on and as cliche as it is, it waits for no one. 

That’s a good a place as any to stop. There’s more I could say about family and attempting to spend more quality time lately, but it’s Saturday and going to be hot out and I need to water my plants. 

Another cliche but so true—there’s no time like the present.

With peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-03-13 The Variable Speed of Time

Life. Funny the way it is. Short. Long. Boring. Overwhelming. Joyful and full of pain. The time we have is a gift and yet we often waste it in so many ways. 

Time is a major undercurrent in many of my poems and essays. It’s a theme that shows up subtly whether that’s what is intended or not.

What’s the point? I suppose it is that in the last few days my thinking about time has been less of a byproduct and more of a major theme. The cause? My mom has been diagnosed with cancer. 

It’s all happened so fast, then again, when does this sort of thing ever not happen fast? 

For her it started several weeks ago when she started to worry about GI problems. This led to seeing her primary care doctor who prescribed laxatives and a stool softener. My mom, in her typical way, was convinced it was cancer and solidified her thoughts by googling and reading all about symptoms of colon cancer. 

A few days after beginning the prescribed treatment to get her bowels moving she began having pain. She attributed her increased discomfort to the “meds” and stopped taking them. She also got so bad that she went to the ER. 

That’s just about when time began speeding up and the details all run together. In the last week and a half my mom has been in the ER four times with the last one ending in her being admitted to the hospital. 

One visit to the ER they gave her morphine for the pain and she had a bad reaction to that. Bad meaning that it did not help her pain and made her nauseous and dizzy. So much so that she couldn’t eat or drink anything (including taking any meds by mouth). That episode ended with another trip to the ER so she could avoid dehydration by getting fluids, Pepcid, and anti-nausea via IV.

So now on top of her severe constipation and abdominal pain, she had nausea and couldn’t eat. That was the one time I drove her to the ER. The others were at night and she had other folks take her. On several of those visits she had an X-ray of her bowel and each time there was conflicting evidence of just how badly she was “backed up.” 

On one of those visits they did a CT of her abdomen. The results of that were also questionable. Which is to say that’s when the ER doc came into the room and told her she had cancer. This, to me, was a very delinquent thing to say but I wasn’t there to hear how it was relayed, and only have the story as told by my mom. 

In any case.. they set her up an appointment with an oncologist. And because of the pandemic, only one person could go with her. That was my sister so I had to listen in on speakerphone. The outcome of that was only that they needed to do more diagnostic tests to determine a diagnosis and nothing could be known for certain. 

When my mom has sat in my living room two weeks before crying she had colon cancer, I (internally) rolled my eyes and reassured her she didn’t have cancer. My reaction to the news from the CT scan was one of more concern but still guarded. In my head it makes no sense to speculate about “what if” when an actual diagnosis is pending. I was still defending my position that it wasn’t cancer. 

Then she was admitted, thank the universe, as my sister and I are not equipped to take care of her at her home or manage more repeated visits to the ER. Being admitted also meant she could get the biopsy and chest CT she needed for a more accurate diagnosis sooner rather than later. 

As of yesterday those have both been done and we’re currently waiting on the pathology from the biopsy to identify just what kind of cancer we’re talking about. But.. no matter the result, it doesn’t necessarily explain her pain or bowel issues. The other revelation since her hospitalization is that she has a partial bowel obstruction. 

This may or may not be related to the “masses” in her abdomen, but could be. I just don’t understand why after 5 x-rays of her lower GI, they would not have detected this. Maybe because it’s just partial. I don’t know. In any case, it’s now all complicated enough that they recommended transferring her to an Omaha hospital as the hospital she was in wasn’t equipped to handle her case. 

Late yesterday she was transferred and is now under the watchful eye of a surgical oncologist. He came to see her last night. But I’m not privy to what was discussed and will get the info second hand today when I go to visit. 

I suppose I can’t hide behind my denial of the situation any longer. I can’t even continue to say “we won’t know for sure until the results of the biopsy cone back.” 

The only thing we don’t know at this point is what kind of cancer it is. What the primary source is. All diagnostics, including the blood test for cancer markers point to ovarian cancer, which they say has a better prognosis than colon or lung. 

I guess we also don’t know what’s going to happen with her bowel obstruction. More diagnostics? Surgery?

The hospitals have a “one visitor a day” policy because of the pandemic and my sister is on dog-sitting duty so I’m the designated visitor. It also means I’m in charge of communication with the “family.” <<Insert serious groan here>>

All that pretty much brings me to today. 

For posterity, and to punctuate how quickly life can change (and how fast time flies sometimes)… was 

  • Feb 23 – Mom comes to my house to complain about her health concern. 
  • Feb 26 – She goes to her PCP. 
  • Mar 3 – ER visit #1 
  • Mar 7 – ER visit #2 where they gave her morphine. 
  • Mar 9 – ER visit #3 for possible dehydration. 
  • Mar 10 – Oncology consult in the morning + ER visit #4 In the evening + being admitted to the hospital. 
  • Mar 11 – Inpatient, Chest CT and results of the blood cancer marker test. 
  • Mar 12 – Inpatient, IR / biopsy + diagnosis of bowel obstruction + transfer to Nebraska Medicine. 

That’s it. That’s enough. 

Until next time, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-02-05 Where’s Monday When You Need It?

After having slept for only 4 hours the previous night, I could not stay awake past 9pm last night. My sleep was unfortunately once again riddled with tossing and turning and congestion. At 4:30 this AM I gave up and got up (again). Sound familiar?

Despite that nonsense, I was in good spirits and looking forward to today. It only took all week to get to a point where it feels like all the mischief has been managed. Still.. I’m not ready for the weekend. At this point I’d like to have a few more weekdays with everyone else at school and work so I can continue to get stuff done without interruptions. While I love my peeps, they can sometimes be needy and nobody seems to care if the timing of their requests conflict with my own plans. Such is the life of a housewife I guess. 

I remember a conversation around a kitchen table with my then soon-to-be husband’s father who made a comment about my new job as a housewife. I remember how rubbed the wrong way I felt about the use of that term. It felt like an insult somehow. I’m not sure if it’s because the term is somewhat antiquated or perhaps that it implied a less important role. I’ve always been the head of the household, just not used to stepping into a role that’s primarily supportive. 

I’m still struggling with the transition. In some ways I’m happy to have more time to cook and clean, but in other ways this perception that it’s not as important still get to me. And the fact that my own personal endeavors can only get attention once my “primary” duties are taken care of is frustrating. 

This gets at the heart of what some of what’s been bothering me lately. Jim says he wants me to dedicate time each day to my writing but that does not jive with the amount of other things that need to be done. I mean, it’s one thing to say something supportive like that but when the rubber hits the road (and days and weeks pass with zero time spent on writing) it’s clear the words don’t match reality. 

Some of it is on me, for sure. I take on too much and literally filled the full time space I was spending at a regular day job with work on the lit mag before I even quit my job. I quit my job to relieve stress and have more time but somehow that extra time just evaporates each week. 

This week has been a particularly taxing week when it comes to the lit mag. We’re nearing the end of the current reading period and decisions need to made and there was a team meeting along with other intense conversations about how to do better with our mission. It’s all good, just taking a big chunk of time to be completely engaged and a bigger chunk of time to sort through my own thoughts and feelings. 

It’s all good, just time consuming and each day when the “work” day is over (like 3pm) I have to switch gears. Last night it was a provider meeting for Jim that was hosted at our house. That took all I had for about 4 straight hours. And I was exhausted! Then at 8pm, just as I sat down on the couch, my daughter comes down the stairs and asks (expects) me to cook her dinner. I wanted to scream. 

But it’s not her fault. I’m happy to cook. I like to. I was just so tired. I should have asked her to do it herself but I already carry so much guilt for saying no to so many things over the years. So many sacrifices because of my job and needing that stupid paycheck. “Sorry darlin, I cant right now because I have a meeting.” 

So I cooked. Then I sat with her while she ate. Then I went to bed. Like I said, 9pm. Such is life. 


It’s almost 9am now. I wrote most of that before 7am. Then I paused so I could wake the house and fix breakfast and get my son to school. 

I want to got my step goal now and beyond that, the only thing I can think of is going back to bed. I have so much to do but I’m trying very hard to sort out what needs done immediately and what can wait. My exhaustion is leading me to believe that everything can wait. Can that be right? 


On that note, I’m going to call it quits (For now? For the day? For the week?) who knows. 🤷‍♀️ 

With peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-02-02 Who Gets Married on Groundhog Day??! 🦦🥂💕

This Girl!! (I think that emoji might be an Ottr, but it’ll have to do).

One year ago today I got married. It’s quite hard to believe. In some ways it feels like it never happened, in other ways it feels like it was many years ago. There is no way I could have predicted that first year of marriage would go the way it did—overshadowed by so much global, national, and local unrest.

Overshadowed is the right word. I want to write about our year as a couple, our love, and how amazing Jim has been through this entire year, but my brain can’t get away from thinking about all the mess. The 2020 vortex of doom and the mental and emotional strain. I suppose if we can survive all that, we can probably weather any storm right? 

It’s a question. Why is it a question? 

It’s just where my head is at today. I’m not thinking about celebration. I’m not thinking about spending the evening together or going out to dinner with him for the first time in about 11 months. I’m not thinking about planning the next adventure or what this next year will bring. My mind is wandering elsewhere and stressed and I’ve got a knot in my stomach over running out of time.

Time is a strange beast. A dimension that’s hard to understand and even harder to deal with as it’s always slipping away. I feel stressed about deadlines and never having enough time. An inbox full of messages causes anxiety to rise in my throat. It’s like every minute of the day I’m carefully calculating what the next move is, never quite catching up or getting ahead.

Why can’t I settle down and just enjoy the day? Why does everything feel so urgent? And how did it get to be 11am and I haven’t walked yet or showered or made our lunches or done half the other things on my to-do list. 

I’m gonna quit there. Even this is starting to feel like a wrench in my plans for this day. I need to let go and get some focus. 

It’s my freaking anniversary people!! That’s gotta be the focus now. Effffff everything else. 

Cheers to Year 1!! 🥂 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-01-01 Hurry Up and Wait ⏰

Or.. It’s About Time.

Two days ago I started writing about something that dissolved into a rant about titles and hierarchy and how disgruntled I felt after not being recognized for my contribution in an effort I’ve worked on and care deeply about. I ran out of time while writing and was subsequently told to let it go. (Clearly I have not yet).

One day ago I started writing and it quickly morphed into a statement of gratitude I wanted to include in my “letter from the editor” for the lit mag I’m managing editor for. Oh hey, this is directly related to the aforementioned endeavor. They are one and the same.

In the middle of writing I elected to switch gears and just write the letter instead of a journal entry. Or was past due anyhow. The part with the gratitude to specific folks on my team did not make it into the letter. If you are reading this, M or T, please know I wanted to but it was apparently too much like a repeat of the last letter and that part was cut. It was also not all me, it was E, who said we’d fit the recognition in somewhere else.

This is the complication I’m dealing with. 

E is the person who gets recognition instead of me, publiclally and privately and I’m really sick of it. I can externally let it go, but mark my words.. if it happens again I can’t predict what my response will be.

See I clearly can’t let it go. But there’s just not time to work through it right now. I have to hurry up on something else that’s important. I have to temporarily let go of what happened two days ago and yesterday and focus on today and tomorrow. 

Did I mention it’s now 2021. Good gravy how can I possibly put thoughts about that on pause too? But I have too. Where are all these things when my mind is dry and I’ve nothing to say? Why do noteworthy events huddle so close together? Ugh!!! 

But I have to focus. 


Today my goal is to wrap the prep and practice for my reading. It’s the next big thing that’s in front of me. Yes, there’s more res today to attend to but that should be a snap. 

Unlike the lecture, the reading doesn’t make me as nervous. That’s kind of a puzzle but one that I’m happy I don’t have to solve because it’s a good thing. I’m actually thinking of sending invites to like everyone I know to tune in and watch. Though I doubt most people will be interested in hearing me talk and read poetry for 20 minutes. If you are reading this and interested, message me and I’ll send the zoom credentials. Ha!

It’s also my opportunity to say a few words, which I will not get to do for graduation because of the sheer number of folks graduating. The question for me becomes.. how much time of poems do I sacrifice to say other things? It’s supposed to be a poetry reading, but damn, I just have a lot to say. You know? 

I suppose that first bit of writing I made reference to earlier is connected. I have been invisible all my life, and that comes at a cost. But we often don’t know the cost until it’s too late. 

Cutting to the heart of the matter, I don’t want to get to the end of what I’ve been offered and feel as though I’ve wasted time. 

Seriosly. A set of my poems were workshopped this week and the mentor facilitating pointed out the theme of time that was in all of them, more prevalent in some than others, but a current flowing between them for sure. She also said she liked the poem about my divorce the best. Which was sort of eye opening. I felt it was the weakest. That fact proves that taste is so subjective. 

That poem will not be in my reading. At least one of the others will probably. But I still need to figure out which ones to cut because as it is now, there’s too much. 

The good news is that I talked myself out of including a few I felt were really important. In a way, the lecture on editing (from the other mentor whose comment referencing E and not me), helped me realize that the audience is important and not to be too in love with new writing. Which are both good points to remember.

So I’m sticking with poems I have high confidence in and are perhaps more universally understandable. Nothing too specific with divorce, castle, or my parents (who might be tuning in). There’s also no poems about my children and that’s interesting. 

Interesting in that I’ve written very few about them. Or patenting. I have one I could read but I don’t have any confidence in it and it’s not polished. So I won’t. I digress.

I’ve got a lot to get done today. I really want to climb up to my tower in the castle after this and work at it until I’ve got at least the reading set. Then move on to other things. 

When this Res is over and things settle down, there will be more time to write about everything else. We’ll see if it all remains pressing with the passage of time. 

Until then, peace and love and happy New Year!

~Miss SugarCookie

2020-02-22 It’s a Great Day to Waste Some Time

A few nights ago I went to a program downtown which had a central focus on the topic of Wasting Time. You might be surprised to learn that it was “In Praise of Wasting Time” which is the title of the book by Professor and Author, Alan Lightman. He was the key speaker in the discussion and shared the stage with a facilitator and a panel of four other people. It was a great program to attend and though I agree whole heartedly with most of what was said (which might even be considered obvious), I still struggle with it (the concept of wasting time) on a daily basis.

Since then, I have been wanting to write my thoughts down on the discussion and the topic itself, but sadly and quite ironically, I have either not had the time or been too distracted by my other goings-on. That’s what is at the heart of the matter.

Dr. Lightman explained that in society today, we basically schedule activities for almost 100 percent of our day. From the minute we wake up till the minute we go to bed we have blocked in something to do down to the 10 to 14 minute interval. I think about this in regards to my own life and I know that it’s true.

I don’t intend to bore anyone with that schedule, but it seems that even as my work hours decreased, the trade off was more chores and responsibilities that replaced those 8-10 work hours. I think the exception to this was right after I quit my job and was immediately hit with a huge block of time where I could truly do anything I wanted and didn’t feel bad about spending a few hours just sitting about or going for a walk or a bike ride.

Now that I have completely made the transition to my new life, I still have that big block of time to work with, but somehow the mentality has shifted. If I’m not cleaning or cooking or running errands for the fam, I fee unproductive. I feel as though I am not doing enough with my day. To make matters worse, when Jim comes home from a long day at the office, I immediately feel guilty because of all the work he has done and feel like my contribution isn’t enough.

How then do I shift that mentality back and give myself permission to “waste time”? Which for me, is more about how I feel about it when it does happen. Because, to be fair, I can be pretty good at wasting time. I just feel like shit afterwards.

In addition to that, I’ve been wondering what the definition of “wasting time” is. I think for me that is key. During the program Dr. Lightman defined it as anything that you do which is not attached to a goal. That is still too broad for me because it only opens other questions. What is considered a goal? Some things are obvious and some are not.

One example could be if you set aside 30 minutes to read a book for pleasure. Is that goal oriented? You are structuring time and accomplishing something. You are getting value out of it. So is that wasting time? Perhaps in the eyes of some yes and some no. So it’s subjective.

Once a week I allow myself to plop down on the couch and watch 50-120 minutes of a TV show (the Bachelor). It’s mindless and I really don’t get anything out of it except entertainment. Is THAT wasting time?

If the definition were more refined to include a statement like, “time where you mind is not actively engaged/distracted in a specific task and can wander to anywhere”, then that is completely different. Now you eliminate TV and Movies and Books and even meetups with friends, which I would contend are never a waste of time.

Anyway, yesterday (the date I started this blog post), it was beautiful outside—Sunny and 55 degrees—and I could not justify walking on the treadmill and writing. I had to get outside and walk. When I got to my destination and got out of my car, I did have a brief thought that I would type on my phone while I walked as I do often on the treadmill at home, but it just felt wrong.

People were walking their dogs and kids and conversing. The scenery was lovely and it would have been a shame to have my head down on the phone. So I just walked. Of course I also did that thing I do and stop like every 10 seconds to take a picture. Or think I’ve got some cool, creative shot of the sun descending on the horizon— light filtering through the trees, and walk a ways off the path into the mushy grass to get just the perfect angle. Needless to say, I did not end up walking very far and the whole time I was wondering, “Is THIS a waste of time?”

Perhaps. I did have some interesting thoughts and spots of inspiration throughout the day, most of which went nowhere. I suppose that is OK. I think that’s kind of the point?? I dunno. I should probably read that book.

That’s it for today folks. As I said, I started writing this yesterday and so now it’s Sunday which is also, in fact, another great day to waste some time.

Time to get out there and do nothing! 😜

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-08-21 Tick-Tock

I’m checking the calendar again.

How long has it been since my last cortisone shot? How many days until my next period? How many months until my wedding? How many days until my next assignment is due? And at the moment, the biggest elephant in the room.. how many days until next Monday, when I will be another year older.

Time is fatal.

Ohhhh so much drama. It’s like the perfect storm right now, due to the ticking of the clock against all the aforementioned events. I’m so damn grumpy and while I’m left-brained enough to know that it makes sense and is completely within my control, my right brain is stomping its feet in tantrum. It wants to be upset which makes me wonder if it’s just for the sake of something else. Oh, hell, the human brain is so flawed.

You want to know how you know it’s so screwy? Ten minutes before I came down to the treadmill to walk and write, I had some caffeine. Now as i feel it kick in, I’m suddenly feeling better. My mood is improving and it’s not just the venting words that’s doing it. It’s the chemicals mixing in my system affecting my brain. How can one tiny little variable, a cup of coffee or a glass of wine or a steroid shot or a hormone like testosterone make that much of a difference. But they do, the science (of which I know nothing about) is there. It’s real. And it’s all connected.

I’ve historically been concerned about my health, getting enough sleep, eating right, getting exercise and making better choices about what chemicals I put in my system. I had to learn some lessons the hard way, but I’m better now. And now I’m in maintenance mode trying to figure out a good balance, practicing moderation. I’m doing ok, but struggles persist. That’s life.

I’ve moved beyond the diet and exercise and sleep puzzle for the most part (maybe not sleep) and am now facing age and the ticking of that clock and mental challenges I’ve not had before. The fatigue and brain fog are real. The pain in my arm is real. The lack of desire is real.

Yesterday I complained that I didn’t want to just get a shot or take a pill or have hormone pellets inserted into my rear again, but today I’m all like “maybe” if it will help, then why not. And now that I’m caffeinated, I’m sort of convinced that I should make those calls today. Wondering if I can get in yet this week so my tennis elbow will be better by Monday. Perhaps.

See how my tune has changed in just 30 minutes??!!

Anyway, now that I’m feeling better, it’s time to get this Wednesday party started. Time will always be fatal, but that doesn’t mean we should waste it.

Cheery-oh, let’s go!

~Miss SugarCookie

2019-04-30 Farewell April, See You In My Dreams

Another month is coming to a close today and it’s already transforming into a phantom in the rear view. Another opportunity to begin again and another hourglass glued to the table. And what did I make of it? Did I make the most of what I was offered?

As I sat in the dry sauna at my gym this morning I could not help but think about the time, not so long ago, when Josh and I would have regular “sessions” at the gym, walking on the treadmills and around the pool and talking in the sauna. Now my life is completely different and I wonder if that was real or just a daydream from some parallel universe. It doesn’t feel like a thing that actually happened. And what about Barcelona? That was only like 3 weeks ago yet it’s quickly fading. Perhaps there is something wrong with my brain.

Something awry in my synaptic pathways and arches that is unable to retain connections. Just like the tendons in my elbow, they are just frayed twine that sometimes cause pain when I bend and flex. Yeah, if I use certain muscles I’m quickly reminded that it’s not a good idea. Does that mean I should just quit trying? With both issues, the answer is “I don’t know”.

I wrote a poem about it once.. the daydreams and memory loss, not the Tennis Elbow. It’s like some defense mechanism that was engaged and perfected early in my life to blur some terrible experiences and now it’s broken and out of control. My brain can’t distinguish the good from the bad and so everything goes fuzzy after a while. It all turns into a daydream. Is that just me I wonder?

One of the mentors in my MFA program, JP, says as writers we typically return to a small number of topics or central themes again and again. The things we choose to write about ARE us. We cycle through those things because it’s is what we know and also what we are trying to sort through. We are encouraged to engage with those things, to use them as an energy source that help us fuel the light we are shining on truth with our words,

It’s a safe group to interact with and that allows those topics to surface and be known. I’ve heard stories from people that I know were born out of the trauma in their lives and there have been some pretty deep and gut-wrenching events I’ve now been witness to. With that, my insecurities start to fester and grow. What have I to offer? What truth can I possibly contribute that might be worthy of reading? Daydreams? Really?!

Still, I write because it is who I am. There are words inside of me begging to be set free regardless of their origins. Perhaps at some point my light will shine bright enough to cut through the haze of ny daydreams and reveal something more.

For today I’m content to just look back at 29 days of April and feel grateful for how full and wonderful my life is. And then look forward to the month of May and all the great things that we have planned. All I can really do with that hourglass is make the most of every moment.

Next Stop.. May Day,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-08-11 Contemplating Full Time

Guess what? My boss called me yesterday afternoon and “tried” to plant a little seed about me working full time. They want me on permanent payroll putting in 40 (probably plus) hours a week. I say he “tried” because I listened intently and didn’t bite. I’m not sure if he expected me to ask more questions and be excited or was truly just putting it out there to think about.

I only really asked one question… what would be the benefits of doing that? In my head I’m already getting all they have to offer. Ive got the health plan. I had to boost my hours to 30 a week to qualify for that. I was invited to the company retreat which was only supposed to be for full time employees. They don’t have 401k. I’m pretty sure they do not have a solid structure for PTO. I asked my co-worker what he got when he negotiated full time, salaries status and he said “uh, unlimited”. What? Really?

I know my ex who was a dev at Linked-In had unlimited vacation as long as the privilege wasn’t abused, but that was a big company that did things like rent out a stadium for their company Christmas party in the Valley. This place is like 20 employees and consultants/contractors. My whole outlook on vacation time is that if they only give 3 weeks paid (and I need more than that obvi), then the salary has to go up to cover potential unpaid vacation. I’ve always been able to manage on 4 or 5 weeks (that includes sick days), but that’s cuz my salary was the bomb and I live well within my means as far as the rest of my bills are concerned.

With being paid hourly, as I am now, I manage my own time. I don’t work – I don’t get paid. I work extra – I get a bonus. Because of school, I have weeks I can only out in 25 hours and those I don’t where I can balance out to 35. Thinking about 40? Nope, no thanks. Been there, done that. I’d like to say never again but using absolutes is foolish.

He offered the security of having a solid gig versus being on contract. A little birdie in my brain tells me I do not need to worry about that. I was appropriately enthusiastic about the conversation and told him I’d think about it and see how things go as school really ramps up (any minute now on that). Probably if I was done with school, I would consider it. But on the other hand, if I was done with school maybe I’d be looking for a new gig which is more in-line with my life passions. Interesting things to think about anyway.

It’s Saturday and my darling daughter is getting her hairs did for the start of school this week and I’m hanging out at the gym. I asked the lady at the salon how long it was going to take and she said 2+ hours. Yup, she’ll be sitting in a chair for 2 hours “bored AF”. She already texted me once complaining she was hungry, but she’s the one who refused to get out of bed until 2 minutes before we had to be out the door. I offered to bring her a pop tart but she said no and I’m pretty sure she thinks that would be embarrassing. I know.. I know “cool story bro”.

I may cut this set short anyway as I’ve got lots of tomato’s to process. I’m making a big batch of pico for a party tonight which was a hit last time. I also need to do some creative reading and writing. It sometimes takes me a while to get into the zone and today I actually have that time. Hey.. I don’t say that very often! I need to use it wisely.

If I worked full time, I’d have more money, but less time. I think that makes my course of action crystal clear.

It’s Always About Time,

~Miss SugarCookie

2018-08-06 No Time to Waste

It’s Monday again and I’ve got lots of awesome in queue this week. It looks to be busy with a full assortment of work, school, appointments for the kids and kitten, and meet-ups.

The work week is front loaded with tasks that are time sensitive and I’m hoping to get most of my hours in before Wednesday or Thursday which will leave the back half of the week open to make serious progress on my first school packet. We’ll see how that works out.

Today Z has a dentist appointment with our Family dentist who I’ve been going to see for like 25 years. They are not in our new PPO health plan and I took her to a new dentist about a month ago. That dentist basically told us she had like 12 cavities that needed to be filled. I find it incredibly hard to believe that in just 12-18 months time her teeth would have taken such a turn. They were in good shape just that short time ago. We’re getting this second opinion cold today. Call me paranoid, but I think that’s the best way to validate the first dentist’s findings. True she has taken to drinking more soda lately, but could that cause such decline so quick. We’ll see.

I’m also transitioning back home today from spending another great weekend with my sweetie. That means packing up all my stuff including my kitten and driving back home where I haven’t been for three days. I’ve gotten really efficient at the process. The only complication that remains is the fact that Kayla can sense something is up when I start loading the car and she goes into run-away-and-hide mode. She’s fine once I get her harness on, but catching her has become a challenge. 🐱💗

Anyway, that all translates to a late start of my day’s activities. It’s 10 am and I’m still on the treadmill at the gym. I tried to do elliptical for the first time since last Thursday and my body wasn’t having it. I’m still sore from a minor medical procedure I had last week. Damn.. that’s another thing I’ve wanted to write about but haven’t yet because I was too busy enjoying my amazing weekend doing nothing special with my special someone.

For real though. We go on errands, watch shows, hang out around the house talking, do chores together, visit family and friends, workout, and it just feels like normal life. He understands I have to put hours in for work and school and is super supportive. I work and he gets stuff done around the house. It feels very much like this is what life should be like. Every instinct I have is telling me this is it. This really is it. And for the love of the Universe and every sub-atomic particle in it, it’s about time!

And time is key. In my life I’ve wasted a lot of time and now I’m saying “no more”. If I only get one shot at this.. I’m gonna make the most of it. Right now that means it’s time to get off this treadmill and kick this Monday’s ass.

Let’s Jam,

~Miss SugarCookie