An Insight into Anxiety

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I wouldn’t ordinarily blog about this so candidly, except that I love the candid and real people out there. I love the people that share without asking for pity. I love the people that post pictures of their perfect little cupcakes one week, and then their disaster of a house the week after that. So in an effort to be relatable and, frankly, for a little catharsis, I give you….

“To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”

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Ordinarily, this post might include a shame-faced apology for not blogging in so long. But there has been nothing ordinary about this past year, so the usual excuses of laziness or busyness just don’t apply. For once in my life, the most cathartic thing in my life has been–not writing–but in fact, teaching. So I can’t apologize for throwing all my efforts into that, and becoming the somewhat invisible thing that this blog is trying to catch. 

 

I Suppose I’d Better… Catch ‘Em All…

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As I learn them, I like to share The Secrets to Marriage that accumulate in my marriage arsenal. Most recently I have discovered that whenever Spouse A comes up with a crazy idea, Spouse B’s job is to enthusiastically validate said “crazy idea” while secretly hoping that Spouse A will forget about it in time.

Jeremy does it to me too. Several weeks ago I told him I wanted to be an animal trainer for the movies. I know he was secretly hoping I’d forget that dream and move on. Either that, or he came up with a different solution for me to train “animals,” and his newest crazy idea has all been part of a plot to secretly and inadvertantly make my dreams come true.

Jeremy’s latest dream?

Why I Am Going To Die of a Heart Attack.

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Excuse me, I know this is sooo Utah of me, but if I could dip the world in Ranch dressing, I would. I love Ranch Dressing. 

I wasn’t raised on the stuff. Ranch, like Lucky Charms or Hamburger Helper, never made it into our family grocery cart when I was growing up. In fact, I grew up snubbing Ranch.

Nose upturned, I would order at restaurants in my “Daughters of the American Revolution” voice. “I’ll have It-ah-lian, please.”

Blog of Disparagement

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Believe it or not, my job doesn’t consist of a bunch of students standing on our desks and yawping barbarically all the time–like I wish it did (and if you don’t get the reference, repent immediately by renting Dead Poets Society). My job doesn’t consist of every student waiving their Hermione Hands all around until I call them so they can express some longwinded thought. Believe it or not, my classroom is not all love notes all the time.