I Burned My Breakfast

Yesterday morning my daily routine of warming up my pre-cooked breakfast almost turned tragic when a simple trip to the restroom which took too long due to an abundance of primping caused me to return to the scent of smoke filling the hallway.


I rushed to the toaster oven in the kitchen to find my Sister Schubert’s Orange Rolls charred at the top and smelling anything but citrusy. Immediately I panicked! I mean I freaked out! What was I going to eat for breakfast? Would I have time to run out and get something? Would I have to be hungry all day, especially during a planned meeting? Would people hear my stomach growl? Would I have to wait to eat until a road trip to Jacksonville later that day. What would I do? What would I do? I was in a simple shock about breakfast, one of my top three meals of the day. I love (me) some breakfast!

Then, I looked further. Only a teenie, tiny portion of the orange rolls was burned, a very small morsel indeed. That little scorch sent a serious stench through the hallway, but it didn’t ruin my rolls. So, like the handy woman I am, I took a spoon, scooped off the stinky stuff and devoured the rest of my rolls.

The moral of this story is: Things are often not as bad as they seem. And if they are simply cut the crappy part and enjoy the rest. 



A Letter to the Young Ladies

Life Gets Better

Being in college, in your 20’s or out of your parent’s home is fun, but there’s a lot of other STUFF that comes along with it that isn’t! As I was driving to work one morning I thought about what I would have wanted someone to say to me (or wish I would have listened to from those who actually said it), about the practical parts of life after high school and before the official start of the “grown with a husband, a house, responsibilities, children and a job” world.

A recent trip to a high school basketball tournament where far too many of the young ladies were scantily clad, feisty (not is a good way) and clearly unaware of their inner and outer beauty reinforced the need for me to share this post again.


So here’s what I would have said to the tall, scrawny teenage girl who helped…

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