Worrying. Uh. What is it good for? Absolutely nothin'.

You were supposed to sing to that headline.

Okay, so you know the saying, "Every one you meeting is either a lesson or a blessing?" I really, truly believe that. Or what about, "Worrying is like praying for what you don't want to happen."

I've learned to ask myself, "What's the worst that can happen?" And it's been so useful because I have to intellectualize it. And if I visualize the horrible thought and then buffer it with possibilities of what could or could not happen--positive or negative--then fundamentally I am okay.

I talk to my mom every day, and I love what she's been through and the many types of women she's represented throughout her life. Instead of rolling my eyes at what she has to say, I now soak up her words.

There are people who act out of ways that I can't explain, and it's not for me to take personally. People are acting out of the lessons they need to go through; and so am I. And I've reacted my most of my life and I've taken things personally, but that's something for me to get over because it's just not serving me well--at all.

Putting things into perspective: I was taking Zooey (muh cat) outside on Wednesday night to be wild and wander, and my neighbor had just come home from the doctor's. She came up to talk to us, when Adam had just heard that he had received an analyst position from APS. When he came outside and told us the good news, my 60-year-old neighbor started bawling. She's been looking for a job for awhile, and had just found out that she was diagnosed with a type of cancer that was in the early stages, but that the VA couldn't cover. Because she didn't have a car, she asked if I could drive her to the bank. I did, and she just vented about her life.

What I've learned at hospice is that it's not about you, it's about the patient. Don't talk about your experiences of life--this is their moment. So I took that into account, and was just there for her in my Chevy as she cried and then guided her through Chase as she soaked everything in. That moment was hers.

I thought so much about her (and other things) throughout the week. And I'm never going to forget that experience. Because as much as I gripe about what I'm worrying about, there's always something that I can do to help others. And I don't have to care how people react to me because it's probably more about them than anything else.

I'm off to Ryan House in a few hours, and I'm just grateful that there's more to life than my self. My super small self that can make everything seem so big and all about me.

Ever taken things personally and then wonder why?


What would you do with $100?

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Okay, I'm Irish. I have ze pale, white Irish skin where my sisters and I do competitions of whose legs are whiter. Yeah, we shouldn't be proud of that. Why? Because you can see our hairy, hairy, hairy legs that we inherited from our Slovak father.

In the same token, if I don't have a new razor every seven days, I get this inconsolable RASHHHHH. I could probably play it off and take a sick day from work, but I'm an upstanding citizen. With that being said, I'm also a cheapskate. I'll extend that razor that should have been tossed a week ago, and make it into a three-weeker.

Now with THIS being said, no more razors from Target that cost seriously $25 for two razors (and that's with the Cartwheel deal) which only lasts for two weeks. And that's just for me. There's still my husband Adam to consider.

Tripped upon the Dollar Shave Club, which saves me and Adam a pretty good amount of moolah each month since we're poor like that. (You know, planning for a baby along the way, putting a down payment on a house--it gets pricey to save.)

I remember one of my college buddies who--this is going to get personal here--introduced us to "real" razors, and she's like: "You know that man blades are the best because it shaves the closest." I tested that theory for a few years, but what I found regardless is that I had way too much fun discovering which DSC Blade worked best for me. (I'm a 4X; Ad's an Exec. He would be.)

On YNAB, I'm now able to save $100 per month thanks to DSC. Where does this extra money go???? To the down payment budget for our home! That extra $100 is gloriousss; that $1,200 per year that goes directly to our five percent down on the house is even more magnificent.

But, just for fun, I was thinking: "If I didn't put my monthly savings from razors into the home budget, what weird ish would I do with it?"

  1. There seems to be a lot of homeless people in the area where I live in central Phoenix. I can't help but come up with a rich background of their pretend lives, but I would drive around Arizona staking out what I think are real people who actually need money to get a jump start on their lives.
  2. I would have 100 days of renting a new release at Redbox. Which means making friends with the kind people at Safeway. Until they're weirded out to which I would move to the Walgreens Redbox. Until they are weirded out. But I'm hoping the 100 days would be over by then.
  3. I would buy children's classics for my niece and nephews: "The Giving Tree," Madeline L'Engle's Time Quartet Series, Roald Dahl's "The BFG," "The Witches," "James and the Giant Peach," Eric Carle books for the younger ones, and write thoughtful, loving messages so when I die and they remember these little gifts when they were children they automatically think of what a damn thoughtful aunt they had.
  4. I would surprise Adam with a Steam gift card. He hates actual gifts. Only into gift cards. Then his computer game addiction would be taken to another level.
  5. HBO to Go for Game of Thrones coming up for the next 10 weeks. That should have been No. 1. Silicon Valley after that. 
  6. I've always wanted to learn how to knit. I would take a knitting class at Michael's or a community city class.
  7. I'd pay people $5 off the street to telling me a random secret. They'd most likely make it up, but at least I could just admire their creativity five dollars at a time.
  8. I'd donate $100 to the Phoenix Public Library.
  9. I'd buy 3/4 of a dress at Anthropologie because that place is so freaking expensive.
  10. I'd invest in savings for my niece and nephews ($25 each) where they couldn't access until they were 18. Hey, at least they would make an extra $5 by the time they're 18. What would THEY do with that $30?
  1. Put that money straight into our savings account towards a down payment for a home. ***YAY***
  2. Buy a pair of new glasses. (Mine are so old; and the prescription is totally off.)
  3. Nordstrom Rack it up and get a few summer outfits; one for work, one for the weekend. You need to live comfortably in sweaty Arizona.
  4. Get a yearly car wash pass to Cleanfreak. Monsoon season's going to hit soon; I want to make sure my new (used) Equinox is sparkly in every avenue.
  5. Buy a BBQ pit from Costco so we can actually do so real outside grilling.
  6. Get a gift for my mom saying thank you for all of her support over these years.
  7. OH. Sky diving. It would pay for the majority of it on Groupon. Definitely want to do that before the preggers zone.
  8. Untouchable checking account for my first child, which--like above--would slowly accumulate. 
  9. Get a massage.
  10. Ooo. A total makeover from Bobbi Brown and completely replace my current makeup pallet.
Okay, so now it's your turn...  What would you *really* do if you had an extra $100 in your pocket?


I wish...

...that I could be the woman who eats nothing but super healthy stuff. Tea all the time. Knowing the distinct palate difference between kale and spinach. Or, maybe someone who just gets super creative at the supermarket wanting to make dressings for meals. Instead, I'm a pre-made oven machine who's very good at ordering McDonald's fries with sides of ranch.

...that I could wake up two hours earlier. Watch the sun come up as a drink my tea and then slowly transition into yoga (hot yoga, duh) and then take my time getting ready for the day, filled with energy. Instead, I have five alarms set warning me that the day is about to start and I typically let my hair dry in the car.

...that I could come home and be ready to write whatever's sitting in my head (or heart). Instead, I turn to that book or binge-watch a typically forgettable Netflix show until it's 9 p.m. and I'm ready to restart another day.

...that I could be financially comfortable. That I could peruse through Home Goods or Nordstrom without thinking about the constraints in my wallet. Maybe not that. Maybe something else. Like, having more than what I have now, respecting my constraints, but at least knowing that I can decorate or have a new wardrobe without planning weeks (or months) ahead to have it.

...that I thought more about my education when I was younger. Not necessarily creative writing, but more my graduate degree. I don't use it and it just bugs me that I pay thousands for it. I want to teach literature. I want to teach writing. And I'm resentful that I get paid more now applying a hobby rather than the foundation of nurturing humans. It scares me that our country doesn't pay our educators more.

...that our country cared more about paying their educators more money so quality human beings could shaped.

...oh, for a lot more but thinking to be careful what you wish for.