The Creative Nest

Let’s talk about side hustles. Not the glamorous “I work four hours a week from my laptop on a beach” version. I’m talking about real-life side hustles , run by people who already have a full plate, a backup plate, and something burning in the oven they forgot about. Because the people with side hustles are not just hustling. They are meployeed . They have jobs. They have families. They have kids. They have pets that need things at the exact wrong moment. They have calendars that look like a game of Tetris played by someone under stress. And then—on top of all that—they decide to add a side hustle. Side hustlers are the people who work all day, come home, make dinner, help with homework, attend practices, answer emails, fold laundry, mentally plan three future meals, and then say, “Okay cool, now I’ll just work on my other thing.” The other thing being a blog, a shop, freelancing, reselling, content creation, crafting, consulting, or something that started as “just for fun” and...

Let’s play a game. You wake up one morning, check your bank account (like we all do because we’re nosy), and boom—there’s $50,000 sitting there. No explanation. No dramatic backstory. It just… exists. Now before you quit your job, buy a hot tub, and text everyone you’ve ever tolerated, let’s pause. Because $50k is that awkward amount of money where it’s life-changing but not “buy a yacht and disappear” money. It’s “okay, be smart but also let yourself breathe” money. The first thing I would not do is tell anyone. Not a soul. Not a friend. Not a family member. Not even the barista who spelled my name right that one time. Peace loves privacy. Then comes the internal debate. Part of you wants to do the responsible thing. Pay off something annoying. Create a little cushion so future-you can sleep better at night. Do something sensible and adult-like so you can feel smug about it later. The other part of you wants to do something fun . Not reckless. Just… joyful. Like buying somet...

Alright, winter. We need to talk. Somewhere between the first cold snap and the heat being cranked up to “surface of the sun,” my skin decided absolutely to lose its mind. One day I’m fine. The next day my forehead is flaky, my cheeks feel personally attacked, and my face is like, “Who are you and why are you touching me?” Welcome to winter skin scaries. You know the feeling. Your skin isn’t dry-dry… it’s confused . Tight but oily. Itchy but sensitive. Flaky but also somehow breaking out? PICK A STRUGGLE. Winter air is basically a thief. It steals moisture outside, then indoor heating finishes the job like a villain in the third act. Suddenly your usual skincare routine—the one that worked just fine in fall—has betrayed you. Cleanser? Too harsh. Moisturizer? Not enough. That one product you’ve used for years? Straight to jail. And let’s talk about the emotional damage. Nothing humbles you faster than leaning into a mirror and discovering your forehead looks like it’s molting. I di...