Unemployment, Here I Come!
You're a well-known DJ at the number one radio station in your city. Right now you have yourself barricaded in the room and you're playing the same song over and over. What song is it and why did you lock yourself in there?
I’m a fun-loving foster and adoptive mom juggling a teenager, a tween, and a toddler, all while navigating the wild world of homeschooling. I recently took the plunge and moved to a new state without ever setting foot there—talk about an adventure! This is my real-life story, filled with chaos and joy. My mission? To swap out traditional products and pharmaceuticals for healthier, natural options for my family. Oh, and I really miss writing, so I'm excited to weave that back into my life!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
We Did Something Crazy
A little over three weeks ago, we packed up a moving truck and closed the door to our New York house for the last time. We spent the night ...
-
I used to be so afraid of writing something horrible, that I wouldn't write anything at all. I'd have a half-hour or so to myself ...
-
The absolute worst part about being a writer for me is grammar and punctuation. With every post I put up, every email I send and every story...
-
I went to #30 school for first grade. Every morning I walked by myself down Otis Street to the school. There were always a bunch of kids out...
5 comments:
Stay Strong - Newsboys
Do we ever have a day when we don't need encouragement to stay strong?
My eyes feel like bloated water balloons. I swore that Mount Everest was made of rock, not nose tissue filled with tears.
The song I recorded on my Zune is locked on Ozzie Osbourne's "Mama, I'm coming home".
My hands automatically reach up to adjust the headset and I am surprised to feel the soft flesh of my ears.
I snort as the song starts again. For the tenth time. Here I thought I was still at work, but why would I with the lights off and me in my pajamas?
No. Of course not. I was fired for playing Barney's them song on HeavyRok99.
I love it!
I promised myself I wouldn't do this anymore, I thought.
The sounds of "Songs for the Dumped" by Ben Folds Five echoed in my head as I remembered the last time I had seen him. It was two years ago, when I came home to boxes piled in the entry way and the apartment a complete mess. He walked into the hall with his suitcase in one hand, a frown on his face.
"You weren't supposed to be home yet," he said, sighing heavily. "I suppose we'll have to take care of this now."
"Take care of what?" I stupidly asked, still in shock at the apartment's disarray.
"Sarah, I'm leaving. I just can't do this anymore. I'm tired of pretending to make things work, when I no longer have feelings for you. I'm done."
"What?" I said, shocked by the blunt delivery. "What do you mean, leaving?"
.... And that's all I've got for now, unless I make this comment a novel. This is a great idea! I'm definitely going to be participating in your writing prompts. Hopefully they all won't be as bad as this first one! My name is Caitlin Peterson and I write crap too!
You're awesome, Caitlin! And way to go for writing crap:)
Post a Comment