Freedom of Voice

3/23/22 When writer's block hits, a good ol' acrostic poem comes in handy: March on! Always embrace your  resilience caring nature honesty

3/22/22  I am not photogenic. Never have been, most likely never will be. Instead of freaking out about it, I have finally come to accept it. Maybe it's because of social media--you can escape having pictures taken and posted of you. When friends ask me to look at a picture before they post, I now just ask, "Are my eyes open?" If they are indeed are (they often are not), post it. That's the best we can hope for.  I prefer my imperfect pictures to ultra-filtered pictures that no longer resemble the subject. Not that I'm opposed to the photographer holding the phone up super high to hide my sagging neck, but filters go to far. There's no blur effect strong enough to erase the fact that I am creeping in on 53, and quite frankly, I don't need there to be. I would love to turn back time on my face, but I wouldn't turn back time on my life. And, as I found out after a failed consultation for Kybella, there is no easy, quick fix for the things that bother me....

3/21/22 Spring has sprung,  Florida style: scorching temps with record high of 90. In other words, sprummer. Kinda like brunch or linner, this is a perfect word for it. We don't get a spring, at least not like other places. No snow melting to reveal blooming flowers, our flowers bloom year round--until the sun scorches them to oblivion that is.  Thank goodness for a "cold front" that came through and sliced through the humidity and pushed the temp down to low 80's. Until Wednesday.  All the people from up North seem to love it, walking around like crazy people in the middle of the day. While my pasty legs could use some sun, I prefer the comfort of my air conditioned home when it's like this.  I don't even know why I went this direction this morning, but I did, so here it is.   

3/20/22 Something happened that helped restore my faith in people and soften my ever-hardening heart a bit: I stopped to get gas on my way home from the gym yesterday morning. As I was pumping my gas, I clutched my wallet tightly, all my spidey senses on high alert, actively assessing my surroundings for clear and present dangers.  "Ma'am," I heard a female voice call. At first, I didn't realize she was speaking to me, but I became even more hyper-aware of things around me. Was anyone parked near? Anyone lurking on the other side of my vehicle? Nope and nope. "Ma'am," she says again. This time I turn. "I am wondering if you can help me."  Here we go , I thought. "I left my house in a rush this morning and forgot my wallet. I don't have enough gas to get home and just need a gallon or so." "I don't have any cash," I lied. I figured that would send her on her merry way. "I don't need cash, just a gallon of gas...

3/16/22 My Focus Meeting is today at Burn. And I need it. I haven't completely lost focus, but the lines are definitely blurry.  Part of holding myself accountable is to be transparent, so that is the aim.  Get the goals in focus. Keep them in focus.

3/15/21 Busy week! Pi Day. Ides of March. St. Patrick's Day. A week of "holidays." Funny how culturally we change things into something they are not. The Ides of March comes across as a bad omen thanks to good ol' Shakespeare, but historically, it was a day of celebration.  Then, there's St. Patrick's Day--celebrating the death of a patron saint with green beer, corned beef, and cabbage. OK.  Fast forward to Cinco De Mayo, another cultural celebration Americans have taken for themselves as an excuse to drink. It just so happens to be my sweetheart's birthday, so we have cause to celebrate that day.  Not that I care that other people celebrate and have fun--been there and done that myself. I'm not trying to be a Debbie Downer, but I didn't feel the need to eat pie yesterday. Or any day for that matter.  Happy Ides of March! Be aware, but don't beware.