I am twenty eight and I am just now learning to say, “no” more for my own sanity.
Learning To Say, “No”
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I am twenty eight and I am just now learning to say, “no” more for my own sanity.
Today, I legit stared at lifeless sentences that needed to be cut out, but insisted that I could breathe life into my already dead words. I was so focused on not starting over that I had convinced myself that although my editor had already declared these paragraphs totaled it wasn’t actually that bad and if I could just bandage it up enough it would all be okay.
A friendly reminder to never lose focus.
Those houses on Redfin and Zillow you be liking won’t buy themselves. My screen time average is high because on Sundays I scroll through Redfin and Zillow like a maniac, tapping hearts on houses that I’m trying to move into tomorrow.
I have written quite a few blogs.
I honestly don’t even know what they are anymore. I basically wrote some words on a document and I enjoyed writing them, but some are stories and some are rants and some are I just don’t know.
You are never too old for beads. Never too mature for that swishing sound as you walk around, or add extra bounce to get more of a sway in your braids, but I already knew that. So why do I pose this question?