The Creative Nest

Some mornings, my contacts go in like angels. No drama. No tears. Just vision. Then there are those mornings — the ones where my lens decides it’s in a long-term relationship with my eyeball and has no plans of moving out. You know that moment when you’re standing over the sink, one eye wide open, muttering “come on, you little sucker” like you’re trying to talk a cat out from under the couch? That’s me. Daily. I swear, if these lenses had hands, they’d be gripping my cornea like, “You’ll never get rid of me, Susan.” I’ve tried all the tricks: Blink drops (Blink, honey, you’re doing amazing, but she’s not moving). Warm compress (cute in theory — my eye just feels spa-ready, still no lens). The “look up and slide down” method (sure, Jan). Panic blinking (10/10 not recommended). By this point, I’m convinced my contact lens isn’t stuck — it’s just hiding behind my eye, taking a break, sipping iced coffee, and waiting to ruin my afternoon. And then… finally … after 10 mi...

There I was, minding my own business — or at least pretending to — when I decided to make a little Sora video. Nothing serious, just a casual re-creation of a moment that could have been if two musical legends ever crossed paths. Michael Jackson strolls in, smooth as butter, declaring he’s marrying Lisa Marie. Elvis pauses, raises one perfectly styled eyebrow, and delivers a slap that could be felt all the way to Graceland.  I posted it, laughed, and went on with my day. Fast-forward a few hours, and apparently the internet said, “Wait… what did we just witness?” My notifications were dancing harder than MJ’s feet — likes, comments, shares, and at least one person trying to figure out if Elvis was right-handed. It’s wild how something you create for your own amusement suddenly takes on a life of its own. No algorithm strategy. No perfect posting time. Just a goofy idea, a dash of AI magic, and boom — a viral moment powered by pure spontaneity. The best part? Reading the comme...

Getting older is… something, isn’t it? One minute you’re breezing through life with perfect eyesight and knees that don’t make noise, and the next you’re Googling “are my eyeballs supposed to feel crunchy?” It’s not that we’re falling apart — we’re just entering a new era. A season where you need reading glasses, a magnifying mirror, and possibly a flashlight just to put on eyeliner. Dry Eyes, Moist Sense of Humor I used to blink dramatically at romantic movies. Now I blink because my eyes are staging a protest. My medicine cabinet looks like a pharmacy for my face — rewetting drops, night drops, morning drops… basically a 24-hour hydration station for my corneas. But here’s the thing — I may have dry eyes, but I’ve never seen life more clearly. Hair Today, Gray Tomorrow Every time I find a new gray hair, I just remind myself: it’s not age, it’s sparkle. I still haven’t decided if I’m “embracing my silver” or just forgetting to buy hair dye. Either way, I’m calling it intentiona...

Fear shows up in funny ways. Sometimes it’s a big, obvious thing — like change, heartbreak, or public speaking. And sometimes it’s something small and unexpected... like realizing there’s a dead something in your yard and you’re the only one available to deal with it. It’s in those moments you can’t outsource the ick factor — no neighbor, no helpful dad, no magical animal control fairy. Just you, a pair of gloves, and your inner pep talk that sounds something like, “Okay… I can do this. Probably.” The Power of the “Probably” Here’s the thing — fear isn’t always about the act itself. It’s about the story we tell ourselves before the act. We imagine the worst: smells, sights, and the what-ifs. But when we finally face it, the reality is rarely as bad as the imagination. That moment of doing the hard or gross thing anyway? That’s growth. That’s where the “probably” turns into “I did.” The Confidence Ripple Once you conquer one uncomfortable thing, even something small, you start to...

Friday mornings in this house mean one thing — Bone Friday . The pups know it. I know it. Even the couch knows it because that’s where most of the trading action happens. Each dog starts with their own treat — perfectly portioned, equally distributed, and completely fair. You’d think that would be enough, right? Oh no. Welcome to the Treat Exchange Market, where possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but curiosity controls the economy. Bear: The Strategic Investor Bear always begins the day with focus and discipline. He grabs his bone and heads straight to the couch like a man who’s just claimed beachfront property. But don’t let his calm demeanor fool you — Bear’s just biding his time. He knows Mocha will eventually lose interest in hers, and when that moment comes, he’ll be ready to “invest.” Mocha: The Casual Trader Mocha’s more of a “limited interest” investor. She enjoys her treat… until she doesn’t. Then she wanders off to inspect everyone else’s portfolio. She’s the wil...

Let’s just get this out there: I love some very specific things that most people don’t exactly find thrilling. And yet? They bring me peace, joy, and the occasional Google Sheet high five. So here they are—some of the things I love that feel a little weird, even for me: 📊 Spreadsheets There’s something magical about setting up a formula that does exactly what I want. Budgeting? Sorted. Loan payoff plans? Got ‘em. A column that tracks which thrift find gave me the biggest resale thrill? Oh yes. ⚙️ Automating Work Stuff If I can build a macro or flow to save myself five clicks a day, I’m doing it. Winshuttle? Power Automate? My brain says thank you and my fingers say less typing, more coffee. 💸 Reselling Random Finds Give me a dusty shelf at Goodwill and 20 minutes. It’s not just about the money—though that’s fun too—it’s about the hunt . The “how much could this go for?” rush is real, even if I just made a $12 flip. Thrilling. Weird. Worth it. 🍳 Trying My Hand at Cook...

So apparently I’m in my “accidentally semi-viral” era. One of my Sora videos—where I declared pineapple a mandatory topping on all pizzas—just crossed 11,000 views . Like… what?! What started as a fun little experiment with AI video remixes turned into a full-blown content moment. I’m getting traction not just on Sora2, but across other platforms too. The cameos are weird, wonderful, and just the right amount of unhinged. I mean—who knew that AI-generated Elvis at 90, a stock market cameo, or a dog-inspired pizza rant would spark that kind of attention? Here’s the best part: I’m just getting started. 😏 I’ve got a few more Sora videos lined up—some weird, some heartfelt, and one that might involve wigs. (Because obviously.) If you’ve been following along here, just know this: 📅 More of these moments are coming. 💡 I’m using these videos to explore story ideas, experiment with timing, and honestly? Just have fun creating. So if you liked the pizza manager, you're probabl...

I can’t be the only one who reworks their loan payoff plan twice a month just to see if I can shave off a few extra weeks—or imagine the joy of hitting zero debt with a dramatic flourish. Right? Right?! Every couple of weeks, like clockwork, I sit down and revisit the numbers: Car loan vs HVAC loan showdown Extra principal payments 4-week vs 5-week month plans Savings vs reselling goals And that sweet, sweet “what-if” scenario where everything aligns just so  I tweak the formulas, look at the balance, then re-tweak because, you know… what if? 💻✨ Honestly, it’s less about the numbers and more about the comfort it brings. Some people bake bread . I bake spreadsheets. 🍞📊 Sometimes I feel like a mad accountant —not because the math is wild, but because I keep coming back to it like it holds all the secrets to my sanity (it might). If anyone peeked at my loan calculator history, they’d think I was plotting a financial heist. Spoiler alert: I’m just trying to ma...

Excuse Me, Who Ordered the Ghost Perfume? Because I didn’t — and yet here we are. So, apparently, my nose has been freelancing. I’ll be sitting at my desk, minding my business, and BAM — it hits me: vanilla cupcakes. Do I have cupcakes? No. Do I even like vanilla like that? Not really. So unless the universe is trying to flirt with me via pastry scent, we’ve got a phantom smell situation. My Nose, a Short Story in Confusion: Morning: “Is that… pool chlorine ?” Midday: “Omg, who’s making bacon?” Evening: “Great. Now everything smells like burnt hair and regret.” And the kicker? No one else smells it. Which means either: A) I’m gifted. B) My sinuses are hosting a séance. C) Trauma said, “You didn’t ask for this, but I deliver in ALL senses.” Why Does This Happen? Science says this could be phantosmia — aka smelling things that aren’t there. I say it’s trauma’s last laugh , like: “You’ve healed emotionally? Cute. Here, sniff this imaginary spaghetti.” ...

Send Help, I’m Living in Sora 2 Now Or don’t. I kind of like it here. At this point, I’m not sure where I end and Sora 2 begins. Somewhere between dressing myself up as a bakery owner with attitude and remaking someone else’s video as a chainsaw-wielding wig queen, I realized: I’m obsessed. Not in a casual, “teehee I like this app” way. No. In a “this is my entire personality for the foreseeable future” kind of way. Every Sora 2 Video Is a Vibe (and a Slight Identity Crisis) Want to be a mysterious narrator from a 1950s noir film? Done. Feel like making a dramatic cameo with fake lashes, big hair, and bigger feelings? Absolutely. Thinking about inserting yourself into a motivational speech like you're Tony Robbins’ sassier cousin? Don’t mind if I do. Sora 2 said: "Be anyone." And I said: "Bet." What I Thought Would Happen: “Oh, I’ll make a video or two just for fun.” What Actually Happened: I’ve made 37 videos in a week. I remix ran...

 I used to wonder why I didn’t get excited like other people.  Why a “big moment” felt small to me. Why I didn’t light up the way others seemed to — at birthdays, surprises, even when good things were happening. And recently, I realized something that hit me deep: It’s not that I don’t feel. It’s that trauma trained me not to. Excitement Can Feel Unsafe When You’ve Lived in Survival Mode When you've lived in an unpredictable home… When you’ve been hurt by the people who were supposed to protect you… When you learned that “getting your hopes up” usually ended in disappointment or backlash… Your body adapts. You start to protect yourself from feeling too much — because too much has never been safe. Excitement? That means you're vulnerable. Joy? That means the fall could be worse. And even when the danger passes, the body and brain can take a long time to believe it's finally okay to feel big things again. Other Feelings That Trauma Skews (and What I’ve Notic...

There’s a very particular kind of rush that comes from watching the clock tick down on an online auction. You tell yourself, “I’m just looking.” You’re calm. You’re cool. You’re collected. You’re a window shopper with boundaries and a budget. But then... you see it. That mid-century-inspired whatever-it-is. That vintage “might be cute” lamp. That kitchen gadget that might make you the kind of person who hosts themed dinner parties. You add it to your watchlist. Mistake #1. The Heart-Racing Hunt This isn’t just shopping. Oh no. This is a sport . You’re not scrolling — you’re stalking . You're eyeing that auction like a hawk in vintage heels, whispering, "No one's gonna outbid me on this 3-tier tray that screams Pinterest brunch aesthetic." You’ve got 7 tabs open, one eye on the timer, and a whole monologue playing in your head about how "this is a NEED, not a want." You’re not just bidding — you’re living on the edge of your checking account....

 Listen… phantom smells are weird. But nothing — nothing — prepares you for the kind of dream where you wake up like, “Did that just happen? Am I in trouble? Should I call someone?” The other night, my brain said, “Let’s have fun.” And wrote me a thriller starring my neighbors with the never-ending lights. The Plot (According to My Subconscious): I’m at home, minding my business. Mr. Lights-Always-On casually strolls into my house like he’s auditioning for MTV Cribs: Uninvited Edition. He starts looking at everything. I suddenly realize… my walls are decorated with pictures of him . Hanging. On. String. Like some kind of creepy Pinterest craft board. Plot twist: he’s a baseball player . Cue me waking up, heart pounding, thinking, “Well, that was awkward.” Dream Logic, Am I Right? The worst part? It felt so real . I woke up genuinely scanning my walls like, “Please tell me I didn’t hang a shrine to my neighbor-slash- baseball -player.” My subcon...

Some people relax on the weekend. Me? I suit up in my “can’t ruin this” clothes, channel my inner Home Depot deity, and get things DONE. 🪵 Operation: Fence Staining Let me set the scene: One gallon of opaque red stain One brush One roller One woman on a mission Was it glamorous? No. Was it a workout? Oh, absolutely. Did I question my choices halfway through and wonder if it would’ve been easier to just build a moat instead of maintaining a fence ? …Maybe. But you know what? I did it. And now my fence looks like it belongs in a fall Pinterest board — strong, bold, and possibly judging the neighbor’s landscaping. 🛢️ Oil Change Adventures Next up: giving the car some love. I rolled up like I was about to change it myself (spoiler alert: I didn’t), but I knew what I needed and got it done without any “Do you want to upgrade your blinker fluid?” nonsense. There’s something satisfying about crossing off the annoying adulting tasks. You don’t get a trophy, but y...

Most people think dogs communicate with wagging tails and soulful eyes. Bear? He’s got a whole system . 🥣 🥣 The Plastic Bowl Alert Bear has his own way of letting me know when it’s time for a refill — even if there’s still food in the bowl. Forget barking. Forget staring. He uses a plastic notification device (a.k.a. an empty lightweight bowl) at each feeding station. Here’s how it works: If the food bowl looks low, Bear noses the plastic bowl. He picks it up, drops it, or drags it — a sound no human can ignore. Then he sits, tilts his head, and waits for the magic. I could swear he’s thinking: “Excuse me, human? Service here, please.” 🐾 The Ritual Even if there’s food in the main bowl, I go through the “refill” motion — scoop rattling, kibble sound, all the theatrics. Bear hears it, sees it, and trots back like, “Good job, you remembered.” It’s not just feeding. It’s his way of saying: “I trust you. You’re my person.” And my way of saying: “I hear you. ...