The Creative Nest

Let's play a little game. Imagine you wake up tomorrow morning and discover that money is no longer a concern. Not “I found $20 in an old purse” money. Not “I got a really good tax refund” money. I'm talking about “money is no object” money. You could buy whatever car you wanted, and your bank account wouldn't even flinch. You walk outside and look at your current vehicle. What happens next? 😂 Do you suddenly decide that you've been woefully deprived all these years and immediately start shopping for something with heated seats, a panoramic sunroof, a sound system that could probably communicate with NASA, and enough horsepower to get you to the grocery store approximately four seconds faster? Or do you look at your current car and think, “You know what? She's paid for. She starts every morning. She gets me where I'm going. We're good.” Because I'm genuinely curious about this. If money were no object, would you actually want a fancier car? And I...

I have a question for you: Does the possibility of taking a class at the gym actually make you more likely to go to the gym? Because I have discovered that there is a very specific kind of optimism that happens when you are looking at a gym's class schedule. You see a class called Strength & Sculpt on Tuesday at 6:00 p.m., and suddenly you can picture yourself becoming a completely different person. You are going to put on your cute workout clothes, grab your water bottle, walk into that class with confidence, and absolutely crush it. This is it. This is the beginning of your fitness era. Then Tuesday rolls around, and suddenly 6:00 p.m. seems extremely inconvenient. Maybe Wednesday would be better. Or perhaps Saturday morning. Saturday morning sounds productive. You could go to the class, get your workout done, come home, shower, and have the entire rest of the day ahead of you. Of course, Saturday morning arrives and you realize that 9:00 a.m. is basically the middle of the n...

I have a favorite pen. There, I said it. Not a fancy pen. Not one of those expensive pens that comes in a beautiful box and makes you feel like you should be signing important contracts with it. Nope. Mine is a blue Bic pen. And I am apparently very loyal to it. My favorite pen is almost always blue. Every once in a great while, I'll grab a red one, but that's basically my rebellious phase. Most of the time, I want that nice, dependable blue ink. There is just something about a good Bic pen. It writes when you need it to write. It doesn't require a special ceremony. You don't have to shake it seventeen times and scribble on a piece of scrap paper before it decides whether it wants to participate. You pick it up, you write, and it works. That's the kind of relationship I appreciate. And yet, somehow, pens have become one of those things that I apparently have strong opinions about. I'll happily use a random pen if I have to. I'm not unreasonable. But if I hav...