If you ask my husband, he’ll tell you that I’m the hardest working and most ambitious person he knows (and no, his friends aren’t deadbeats and he’s not saying this to score some brownie points from me – he truly believes it). I always find this hilarious (there may be some laughing in his face every time I hear those words) because I swear I’m one of the best procrastinators in the world. It’s true.
In college I pulled countless all nighters, setting up my work space right in the hallway (since my roomate didn’t share my “work ethic”), tripping up drunk kids running around. You may mistake this for being ambitious/hard working, but you’d be wrong. I’m just a master procrastinator who eventually needed to face the music and get the damn paper done. Yes, it was no doubt due the very next morning.
Today my todoist account has 31 items for TODAY. And no, brushing my teeth is not on the list. And yes, I will probably add
This little intro is going to (a little prematurely) excite my parents (and probably grandmas once my parents decide to share this little nugget with everyone they encounter)… but hell, I might as well say it… I’ve been thinking about my future kids lately. A lot. At some point a few months ago, out of nowhere, the idea of being a mother stopped being uncool, completely hypothetical and something I probably “had to do” and became a lot more real and sort of exciting (could it be because I’m getting that much closer to the big 3-0?). Before you-know-who gets a little too excited, let’s be clear. I am not pregnant and I don’t plan on being pregnant for at least a year and a half (or longer, depending on where I am in my career, house plans, etc.). But like I said, I have started thinking about it and actually imagining what it would be like.
Of course being the food-obsessed self, after wondering whether I’d be the good cop or the bad cop (actually that one is easy, Adam will be caving with one look at