Could the pending collapse of social media as we’ve known it be the thing that makes writing stick?

Let’s find out.

I am 45. The year is 2025. It seems THRIVE is sitting right there as word of the year. I have a word of the year worksheet I’m going to spend time with this weekend and make sure I really connect to something this year. The year that I’m sneaking myself back into my own life.

What does that mean?

• It means I bought a new comforter for our bed that I’ve been coveting for a while and I’m making the bed each day and putting pretty throw pillows on it. When I lived alone I had such a pretty monochromatic cream bedroom and I kept it clean and put together because it looked so nice that way. I’m getting back to that.
• When cleaning up some stuff in the basement I came across a zip loc bag full of stuff I pulled off my fridge in my last house. One of the things is a picture of me hugging the KitchenAid mixer box on Christmas morning 2003. I always had that picture on the side of my fridge. It has been added to the side of this fridge.
• I added a gallery wall to my home office of pictures I love that represent how I’m feeling now. The vibe in which I’m trying to evoke as I move forward. There are champagne coups and disco balls and homages to Sherbet Birdie.

When I moved in with Rich and the boys to our new to all of us house, I prioritized that it feel comfy for all of us, and I still think that’s important. But I’ve been getting glimmers of me in weird little things and I’m noticing them and pulling them forward.