Dreams and Mirages

I wake. Something’s not right. I’m annoyed with the world. I always wake happy. My glass replenishes. It should be at least half-full. It was the kind of dream where the world doesn’t work–not a nightmare, the type where nothing is as it should...

Only Bullies Give Wedgies

Declan is fighting me. I’m supposed to be the bad guy from a show he loves. He has it choreographed to the last detail. “Side kick me, Mommy.” That’s something you don’t hear a six-year old say often. I aim for the stomach....

Using Your Head: Not the Same As Getting Hit

“You box?” asked my friend. “Boxing” is a specific art. I can’t say I box. Do I own boxing gear? Full contact safety stuff with a gag reflex mouthpiece, “get bashed in the head” Olympic headgear, and 14-ounce gloves because I...

Sit and Eat Chicharones (Or Find Your Passion)

“What is it that gets you out of bed in the morning and exercising?”  “How do you write every day?”  “Why do you teach even though the climate is so bad for teachers?” These are three questions that crossed my feed this week. On the...