Yesterday was a full one. Budget work in the morning, then Costco and a few other errands in Maple Grove until about 1:00 p.m. After that, I headed up to Megan’s for a few hours of the best kind of productivity—playing with Oliver. Back home again, I stripped the meat from two Costco rotisserie chickens (cheaper than buying a whole chicken and cooking it ourselves) and turned the bones into a batch of chicken stock.
Somewhere in there, I also fit in my daily routine: seventy minutes on the NuStep, ten minutes of stretching, and—on Fridays—fifteen to twenty minutes of strength training.
Joe and I finally sat down to eat at 8:00 p.m. I still needed to photocopy our new medical insurance cards and get them into our wallets, and Joe wanted a tutorial on how to use our new insurance rewards cards. They’re surprisingly generous compared to the old plan: $60 per quarter instead of $25, plus $150 per quarter for medical services for each of us, as long as they’re for independent services. Adulting never really ends, does it?
Suddenly it was 11:00 p.m., and I still had my nightly ice-and-heat routine for my back to finish. By the time I crawled into bed at midnight, I realized I hadn’t written a blog.
I briefly played with the idea of getting back up to write—and chose sleep instead. In the past, I would have convinced myself I had to get up. I had to be consistent. All of my avid readers (okay, it’s fewer than 100 people) would think I was slacking. Somewhere in that internal lecture, it dawned on me that I only know for sure of four people who read me regularly. The rest could be random strangers who don’t even know I ever had the idea of writing every day.
Sometimes I hate when reality collides with my fantasy world.
Yesterday was day two of the new year, and I am already practicing imperfection.
This morning, I woke up to disheartening news out of Venezuela. I’m now waiting to see if someone invades us, kidnaps and arrests 47 and his cabinet, and announces they’re here to convict them of unlawfulness. Ideally, it would be an ally—maybe Canada?—and they’d decide to stay and fix our country for us. You know, just like 47 is promising to take over Venezuela’s government to fix their problems.
Note: I have clearly brought sarcasm and irony with me into 2026.
And honestly, I think that’s going to come in handy.
Nothing wrong with sarcasm. My mom was the Queen of it. As a child it was sometimes hard to know if she was serious or just being sarcastic. I think some of it has rubbed off on me though.
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