Word vomit

The magic of saying things out loud.

Day 6 of my sinus infection...please send chicken soup and trashy magazines to: Mucus Blob Girl Shoebox Condo The Tundra aka. Canada When I went to see my doctor to get antibiotics, I mentioned that I had dropped by my work to "show face" aka. stop the squawking cubicle hens from spreading rumours about me… Continue reading The magic of saying things out loud.

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Word vomit

Slowing down automated living with rituals.

I've recently received two gifts that have quickly become the cornerstone of my morning routine: a vintage vinyl record player and an espresso machine. Every morning, I crawl out of bed 30 minutes earlier than usual, and stumble sleepily into my living room to strategically select a record from my quickly growing collection to set… Continue reading Slowing down automated living with rituals.

Word vomit

The end of the countdown.

I did it again. I put so much imaginary pressure on myself to "escape" the cubicle within a certain time frame, that I began to loathe the process. Suddenly the 9-5 grind didn't seem like such a sucker deal anymore. It always comes down to the same problem: taking on too much at once, making… Continue reading The end of the countdown.

Word vomit

Finding my “joie de vivre.”

During one of the the last few unsettling long-distance Skype calls with Mr. B, as I stressed about work/friends/family/whatever else was pissing me off on that given day, he asked me if I thought I had lost my joie de vivre. Out of all the conversations we ever had, this one consistently haunts me. Irrational… Continue reading Finding my “joie de vivre.”

Word vomit

Realization #4 – I must embark on a “Year of Self”

It has been exactly 25 days since Mr. B killed the dream. During this time, I have eaten my weight in ramen, possibly exhausted Canada's supply of imported merlot, watched 10 seasons of Friends and listened to more Kelly Clarkson than I care to admit to. I am happy to report I am officially a… Continue reading Realization #4 – I must embark on a “Year of Self”

Word vomit

Realization #3 – There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path.

When Mr. B arrived, all that was on my mind were the lazy Sunday mornings we would inevitably spend in a quaint European village, in our modest but cozy home with the door I would insist on painting red. The memories we had not yet made, were the ones that kept me hooked. In reality,… Continue reading Realization #3 – There is no path to happiness. Happiness is the path.

Word vomit

Realization #2 – I’m scared of being alone.

There. I said it. I am a grown-ass, 27-year-old woman who is scared of being alone. Something I truly didn't realize until Mr. B skipped into (and subsequently out of) my life. For the past decade, I have methodically steamrolled from one relationship into the next. Oh, shit ain't working with Mr. Right Now? That's… Continue reading Realization #2 – I’m scared of being alone.

Word vomit

Time-out: A pity party is a shitty party.

I'm taking a quick time-out today from boldly declaring the second of my three major realizations and from brazenly setting forth into my new life as an independent, bad-ass bitch (sorry, Diane Farr). To sum up: Today was shit. Works sucks. I'm out of wine. I'm hyper sensitive and every-day situations are stressing me out.… Continue reading Time-out: A pity party is a shitty party.