Lately I’ve noticed how quickly I can slip into a negative headline about my day. I’m stressed. I’m overwhelmed. Today is hard. But then, if I find the strength to pause and zoom out, even a little, I realize… the day has actually been pretty good.

It’s wild how fast a single thought can rewrite the whole story: One email took longer than I wanted or one conversation felt a little off leads to one moment of tension and suddenly my brain wants to stamp the whole day with a headline: “Today is hard.”

I just finished writing a Sunday Starter and ended it with needs a better ending. I did it because I knew the ending wasn't great, I knew it needed something different, but I also knew that now wasn't the moment to fix it. If I had sat there crossing out my work, rewriting, and moving things around I would have been here another hour with little to show for it. Instead, I chose to accept momentum over mastery and followed the next idea.

Does anyone else have the awkward flaw of oversharing? This happens to me when I am feeling uncomfortable; maybe I just got to a party and I'm meeting people I don't know that well and my fear of silence makes me give details that no one wanted or needed. I'm sure I'm not alone in this and many of you have also played a conversation over in your head wondering why did I talk that much!?

Hanging on the front door of the Stitzel-Weller Distillery are five keys. These keys were once used each morning by the original property owners as they walked the grounds, unlocking the different facilities on the property. When they finished, they returned to the front door and hung the keys back up as a symbol of hospitality; a quiet signal that the place was open, and so were the people inside.

I am writing… I am in a coffee shop and I'm writing… I'm in a coffee shop AND I'm WRITING… Now sing that like you're Will Ferrell in Elf and you'll know what was just going through my head. About 30 minutes ago when I sat down to write, the words came pouring out of me so quickly my poor little hands could barely keep up. Then, I hit a block. No new ideas. So, I took a few sips of my black Americano, which was finally cool enough to drink, and I almost switched gears to start reading. Almost. Then I remembered that the best way to write a book is to write a book…

On New Year's Eve I was scrolling through social media when I saw a post from Mel Robbins. It was about this tradition she had done with her husband for 18 years. Every year, before embarking on a new one, they would sit down together and go through 6 questions. She had put together a free workbook with the content and so I decided to download it and take a look. After skimming through I thought some of the questions would be fun to discuss and so I texted the PDF to my husband. My actual text went as follows…

As part of a way to focus on writing in 2026, I've been participating in the Writer's Digest writing challenge. On Day 3 we were asked to write a love/hate list, an exercise inspired by Katie Bernet's article I Quit Writing, and then I wrote my Debut Novel. I of course did what anyone would do: lurk on the comments already made by other writers to generate some ideas. When I read through the lists, I realized there was very little I could whole heartedly say I loved because most things I love are not always lovable.

I've been trying to write for about 5 hours now. Instead, I've updated my website, posted about an upcoming event on social media, cleaned up all four of my inboxes, and did a writing challenge, which did not really involve writing but rather making a list of the things I like and hate (more on that next week). So, as you can see, I've had an extremely productive day doing all the things that were not my priority and failed to do my biggest goal for the year: write for 30 minutes every day.

I came to Halo Roasters today, my favorite coffee shop down the road from my house, to write. Over the past few weeks Andrew and I have been talking about our 2026 goals. While he always likes to have goals around learning new things, expanding his ever-growing list of practical skills and boundless knowledge, I keep coming back to my first love: writing. I want to try to find a publisher and agent; I want to give a writing career a real shot. Not just something I do as a hobby and earns a little extra pocket change; I want to be able to fully focus on it.

Last weekend we were on a tour of Stitzel-Weller Distillery where they have 29 houses filled with 380,000 barrels of whisky. According to the tour guide, that's not even a large amount compared to other locations used for the aging process. I've tasted 30-year whisky before but what I never really thought about until that moment was how long 30 years actually is.

The story I’m about to tell you has everything: laughter, suspense, tears… it even has neon signs. It starts in the United Lounge at Newark Airport when we were doing what you usually do when your flight is delayed: we settled in, sipped some free wine, and bonded with strangers over the shared travel experience. As we were talking about the delays with the young woman sitting next to us, I relayed my experience from when I used to travel every week for work. I told her that I learned there is no point in going to the gate until you get the It's time to board text message. She had already gone there once and came back when it was delayed another hour; just stay here I told her, I never go until the app updates. They always tell you when they're boarding. It was in that moment when the universe decided to one-up Allanis Morrisette and delivered the mother of all ironic moments…

Last week when I messaged all of my friends asking about their favorite holiday traditions, the most interesting response was actually the very first one that I got. It was from a friend of mine who said he had no traditions; this immediately sent me into therapist mode (I'm not a therapist) and I asked how he felt about that. He said he didn't mind not having them, because he's never been particularly nostalgic. As someone who still has her childhood jewelry box on her dresser, I could not relate, but I respected it because I have seen the dark side of traditions: the traditions trap.

I was on a walk this week discussing holiday traditions and how they often fall somewhere on the spectrum between nostalgic joy and stressful obligation. This discussion prompted me to text dozens of my friends and family asking them what their favorite holiday traditions were. I got so many responses that it led to this post being a two parter. The responses included more elaborate events like organized gingerbread house competitions, extended family secret Santa, and a women-only silly ornament exchange, to the simpler listening to Warner Bros Jazz Christmas Party, sleeping in the same room as their siblings, and getting a Christmas tree the day after Thanksgiving.

On our drive home last night from our annual Thanks-getaway, we were passing the time in the car with some holiday podcasts. While listening to A Cozy Christmas Podcast, we learned from guest Grace Tierney about the word scurryfunge. It’s from the 1700s and originally had something to do with deep cleaning (and I think something about fish… or the sea…. I zoned out a bit), but by the 1950s it had shifted to describe a very specific moment. You know that feeling before guests come over and nothing is clean or ready yet? That is what inspires a scurryfunge: the frantic moment when you scurry to get everything tidied up real quick.

I was recently scrolling through my phone and saw something that went something like this: whatever you waste your time doing is what you should be doing for the rest of your life. So that's it everyone, I'm ending my business and I’m going to be a full time Instagram reel-watcher with a Hallmark-movie-watcher side hustle.

This week I received my first large royalty check. As a writer and content creator for professional development workshops, I have a few things out there that create some passive income, but they have never really produced more than a couple hundred dollars. Until now.

This week, I started listening to Holiday music and watching Christmas movies. Not in secret or with a sheepish don’t judge me disclaimer; I am loud and proud stepping into the Holidays. And I say holidays and not Christmas because my favorite song that I've had on repeat is actually a Hannukah song called Miracle (I dare you to listen to this song and not immediately love life). In the past, I would have called this early-holiday-listening a guilty pleasure. But I’ve decided I hate that term: why should I feel guilty about something that makes me happy?

In early September, Phoebe Adams played a joke on her boyfriend when she tried passing off a rock as a $150 decoration from Anthropologie. Since Adams is a content creator (and therefore makes money off of views), I tend to be a bit skeptical. I do not know if his reaction was genuine or if they planned the whole thing together (I'm leaning toward the latter) but what I was more interested in was what happened next.

I was reading a book recently called The Purpose Revolution and on page 77 the author referenced a study that reported people who feel connected to their life purpose get more sleep. It was an interesting statistic; however, I couldn't help but question it. Do people who feel connected to their purpose get more sleep? Or is it that people that get more sleep are more likely to feel more connected to their purpose? Or is this just two unrelated data points where causation does not exist at all?

Last month I was sitting in a hot tub, listening to my morning coffee playlist, and scrolling through the usual content I like to hit before I start my day: The Daily Skimm News email, the New York Times Morning, and then a bit of mindless scrolling on Instagram.  As I took in the beautiful Tennessee morning, with the sounds of nature all around me, an image came up that made me smile…