I procrastinate every chance I get, but I stress over the clock every minute, of every day.

I am unapologetically loud, but keep my mouth shut too often.

I love my thirties, even though I thought I’d hate them.

I love with everything I have, but I cautiously hold back claiming protection.

I talk too fast, but I don’t say enough.

I refuse to buy new clothes when there are plenty of perfect items at the thrift shop for $1.99.

I am obsessed with Twitter, but don’t tweet enough.

I hope I can finish a book sometime soon, but it’s a massive conquest.

I think co-sleeping is a terrible idea, but don’t judge people who do it.

I (still) love Bernie Sanders and don’t care who knows it.

I stole a car once, it was my stepdad’s… but we laugh about it now.

I have written a personal account of my own Me Too moment and wonder if my offender has read it.

I worry what other people think, but I do what I want.

I attended three different high-schools before graduation, but I’m grateful I did.

I cuss like a sailor, but I hold back when needed.

I love myself, but I’m harshly critical.

I over think, but I rarely think things through.

I know who I am, but I often wonder if I’m wrong.

I am happy, but sometimes I am overcome with sadness.

I’m carefree but filled with anxiety.

I know I have a lot to offer, but I frequently doubt myself.

I love my pets, but God damn, they are fucking annoying sometimes.

I think parenting is hard, but it’s the most fulfilling venture I’ve been on.

I show kindness every chance I can, but sometimes my judgments get the best of me.

I love wine but hate the next day headache.

I am too old for excessive selfies, but occasionally sneak one in.

I love to write, but it’s so easy to throw on the back burner.

I found myself in Wisconsin, but miss Minnesota.

I am a person who values friendships but should put more effort into them.

I wonder what life would be like if I’d made different choices, but regret nothing.



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