Laurie's Journal

The 4 AM Hustle, Collagen, and the Beautiful Art of Doing Absolutely Nothing I know, I know. I’ve been away for a while. But honestly? Life happens. Or, to be entirely blunt: shit happens. Right now, I’m actually on vacation, which is the only reason I’m able to sit down, take a breath, and write this. It has given me a much-needed minute to just be . But since I finally have a moment of stillness, I wanted to pull back the curtain and give you a little behind-the-scenes look at what my "typical" life looks like lately. Spoiler alert: It is a masterclass in survival, routine, and a lot of sleep. The Mon-to-Wed Marathon Let’s start with the front half of the week. Monday through Wednesday, my alarm goes off at 4:00 AM . Yes, you read that right. Before the sun is even thinking about rising, I am up. My mornings are a sacred, albeit fast-paced, ritual: Devotions & Coffee: First things first. I need to ground my spirit and caffeinate my system before I do anything else. The...

The High School Hallways of the Blank Page Writing a book is like walking into high school all over again. You find yourself standing there, the awkward freshman in a sea of total uncertainty, gripping your notebook like a shield. You look around, and everyone else seems like an upperclassman who has it completely together. They know where their classes are, they navigate the halls with effortless grace, and they look pristine. Meanwhile, you’re just trying not to get shoved into a metaphorical locker by your own self-doubt, or crawl into a locker and slam the door on the next four years of  HELL. Back in the day, when freshman angst hit, you’d usually take it out by Clearasiling the absolute hell out of that one wayward zit. Now, lucky me, I never really got zits as a kid. And as it turns out, because I’ve been swabbing my face with collagen since the age of 15, wrinkles don’t seem to be in my future either. I’ve gone through menopause and my skin has honestly never looked better....

The Latchkey Kids Are All Right (Thanks to a Lot of Therapy We Didn’t Ask For) Welcome back, fellow survivors of the 1980s. Take off your JNCO jeans, pause your cassette tape with a pencil, and let’s have a chat. We, Generation X, are officially the apex predators of the survival world. We were raised on a steady diet of hose-water, red dye #40, and absolute parental neglect. Our childhood motto was "Be home when the streetlights come on," which was less a safety guideline and more a legally binding contract that allowed our parents to forget we existed for twelve hours a day. We survived the lawn dart era. We survived stranger danger. We survived dial-up internet. If the apocalypse happens tomorrow, Gen X will be thriving in the ruins, trading rusted bicycle parts for canned peaches while wearing a flannel shirt. But let’s be honest for a second. While we are the reigning champions of survival , we are also the undisputed monarchs of repressing our feelings until we physica...

The Quiet Radical: When Life Becomes "Real" Again For years, my life was lived in the extremes. I was either viewing the world through a high-definition, neon-soaked lens where every idea was a masterpiece, or I was trapped in a basement with no windows, convinced the sun had retired. When you live with Bipolar disorder, you get used to the drama. You become a connoisseur of the "Internal Apocalypse." But then, something strange happens. The medication kicks in, the therapy takes root, and the pendulum stops swinging so violently. You reach the Great Quiet. This is what they call stability. But what they don't tell you is that stability isn't the end of the story—it’s just the moment life finally becomes real . The "Boring" epiphany In the beginning, stability feels suspiciously like boredom. I remember sitting on my porch, drinking coffee, and waiting for the "other shoe" to drop. I was so used to my brain being a chaotic 24-hour news cy...