The Creative Nest

Am I the only one who likes to have a little fun with spam callers? You know the ones I'm talking about. They call out of nowhere and ask if you've ever thought about selling your house. My first thought is always, "Well, you called me." So instead of immediately hanging up, I sometimes decide to see where the conversation goes. When they ask if I'd be willing to sell, I enthusiastically tell them, "Absolutely!" Then I give them a price that would make even the fanciest mansion blush. Let's say $2 million. There's usually a long pause while they try to figure out whether I'm serious or if they accidentally called the wrong person. Eventually they tell me they were hoping for something a little more reasonable. That's when I explain that every minute they spend trying to negotiate, the price increases by another $5,000. "Oh, it's been another minute. We're at $2,005,000 now." If they keep talking, I keep adding to the t...

Can someone please explain this to me? Seriously. How is it possible to sleep for eight or even nine hours and still wake up feeling like you barely closed your eyes? I thought getting enough sleep was supposed to solve the problem. Instead, I wake up wondering if I accidentally stayed up all night without realizing it. Somewhere along the way, we were all told that adults need around eight hours of sleep. That's supposed to be the magic number, right? Well, I'd like to file a complaint because there are mornings when I get every bit of those eight or nine hours, and I still feel like I need another full night's sleep before I can even think about starting my day. I honestly don't know what my body is doing while I'm asleep. Am I secretly running marathons in my dreams? Is my brain hosting an all-night party while the rest of me is trying to recharge? Did someone forget to flip the "rested" switch before I woke up? Because something clearly isn't wor...

If you're a dog owner, I'm willing to bet you've experienced this at least once. Your dog lets out one tiny yelp. Not a dramatic cry. Not a limp. Not a full-blown emergency. Just one little "yip." In that exact moment, your brain completely abandons all logic and immediately jumps to the absolute worst-case scenario. It's amazing how quickly our minds work. One second your dog is happily trotting around the house, and the next you've somehow convinced yourself they need emergency surgery, physical therapy, and probably their own tiny orthopedic mattress. Meanwhile, your dog is already chasing a toy like nothing ever happened. I recently found myself doing exactly this with my Chihuahua, Lola. She let out a little yelp when I touched her, and suddenly I was convinced something terrible had happened. Maybe she hurt her back. Maybe she bruised a rib. Maybe she twisted something jumping on the recliner. Maybe Bear accidentally body-slammed her during one of ...