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Have you ever had to watch something unravel without being able to stop it? That's what happened to me yesterday while I was juggling. Every touch of the ball made it worse and worse and finally, by 403, my shoelace was completely undone.

I'm a pretty agile 30-year-old. That's what my mom says anyway. (She also claims I should be much better at the timed mile, grrr). But avoiding an undone shoelace has never been a distraction I could easily handle. I'm kind of that kid that stops playing in the dirt because she has dirt on her hands.

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I'm not crazy. (Well, keep reading, I might be a little) I don't listen to all of my sudden urges though. Imagine if I did?

I would be out for 1 am runs quite often. And probably have a white board in my car with things written on them for certain drivers that pass by. And maybe wear my Batman mask through the Dunkin Donuts drive thru. (I'll have a Batte-that was a stretch).

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The last three days have been spent doing the following: Working out (coming back from a ten-day absence due to severe bronchitis and other happenings that were mentioned in previous blogs). It's amazing how only two weeks ago, running felt fabulous. Now, it feels as though someone is playing a sick game of "hide yo lungs".

Finishing the Jim Morrison book. (More on that later)

Watching the NWSL (Twitter) wheel and deal.

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It's come to my attention (mostly through social media) and the occasional human interaction, that many people succumb to having more bad days than good days. It is to my belief that regardless of what happens throughout a day, if a bad thing occurs, it is automatically heralded as a bad day in its entirety.

Things that can contribute to a bad day may include: a flat tire, your dog peeing on your carpet, you stepping in the pee with your socks on, you not having anymore clean socks to wear, Starbucks getting your order wrong, spilling said wrong order on your shirt, traffic making you late for work, your kid forgetting their homework at home and you have to bring it to them, rain, snow, wind, rude customers, rude drivers, rude... every body is rude, and the famous -having to go to work.

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As I might have mentioned, I still live at home. Mostly because I know deep down it would crush my mom for me to move out. (wink face)

 

My cousins live down the street. They have a 2-year-old. His name is Mikey. He is pictured here. 

During the day, they work. During the day, my mom babysits him. During the day, if I'm home, I hang out with a 2-year-old. Aside from a 28-year age difference, we actually have a lot in common. We annoy my mother. We watch movies on the computer. We take selfies. We play the (fake Guitar Hero) guitar and pretend we're rockstars. We play dress up. We play soccer in the house. The usual.

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"Why did you do an intro post for a blog you've had for a while now?"Because I do what I want.

"No for real, why?" Truthfully, I do better under pressure. By saying I was going to do something, I kind of, have to do it.

Awesome.

I've had a lot of time to sit around and think the past couple of days. I've been sick. Really sick.

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I'm sure this is the longest I've ever gone without blogging. I'm sure there's a good reason for that somewhere in my personal journals. But generally speaking, the reason for my return stems from my need to share. Because I have a lot of (what I consider) knowledge and I'm really funny. The world deserves that. Also, my latest book endeavor is that of a Jim Morrison biography.More than a massive rock star, Jim Morrison was a writer and poet and recorded all of his thoughts in notebooks, even from a very young age. After he graduated from UCLA, he got rid of all of his notebooks.

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