September 11th. I love it.

I’m fully aware that I forgot to post last week, but once again, the holiday weekend messed me up.

First up this week, “Steve and Me.” I love it. A friend of mine told me that Terri Irwin’s book about her husband Steve Irwin and I just had to read it. Back in elementary school, he was one of my favorite people, so learning about his life made me feel great. I had no idea how he met his wife, why he named his daughter what he did, and also more details into the events after his life. I almost couldn’t stop reading this book, but I made myself take 2 days to read it. BONUS: I also hit my 25 book goal for the year.

I love it.

Next up, Gilmore Girls. I love it. Last week I started watching it on Netflix again. Oh, the memories. I can remember watching this with my family, especially during the fall and the holiday season so it’s my feel good show. I can’t wait for the new season to come out so this is just my prep time. Obviously, I couldn’t watch it without have a huge cup of coffee and a donut.

I love it.

Finally, being needed. I love it. Despite the fact that I no longer work at Tulane, I was still brought in for the first home football game yesterday. I got a lot of questions and requests from my former co-workers so that let me know that they miss me. While I don’t miss the crazy hours and all of the stress, I do miss the people that I used to see everyday, so it’s nice that I’ll get a chance to see them a few more times this season. I’m gone but not forgotten.

I love it. It’s great. Everything’s great.

I love it.


Day 19: A Difficult Time in My Life

Overall, I’ve had a pretty awesome life. I’ve traveled a lot, met some amazing people, lived the dream, and found somebody I love.

But it wasn’t always awesome.

When I first moved away from home in 2011, I had a really hard time. I was 3000 miles away from my family, really stressed out, a nervous nelly, and afraid of what was coming.

A little background – I’ve been obsessive compulsive basically my whole life. Since 1st grade, I’ve been an absolute neat freak and worry wart. I always had to have everything clean and organized, vacuuming my room more often than I should have. I would also stay up late at night crying to my stuffed animals about how I thought the house was going to burn down. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen and it was just me overthinking everything. This kind of thing has always been a struggle for me.

Fast forward to age 21 and living alone in a strange city for the first time and it’s like my OCD went into hyperdrive. I started worrying constantly about nothing and thanks to the old man that lived next door to me and accidentally tried to key into my apartment (an honest mistake, I know) my compulsive locking got out of control. I would barricade my door at night with my dining room chair, lock the door almost 200 times before I was satisfied, and would often leave for work but then have to drive right back home to make sure I locked the door behind me.

Of course, after my time in Arizona, I was led to New Orleans. My issues didn’t subside at all, and probably got worse. I would stay up almost all night worrying about the future and coloring (it helped me calm down). At that point, I decided it was time for me to come home and work things out.

I drove back home and spent 4 months going to therapy, hanging out with my parents, and working on myself. It was a really hard decision because I didn’t want to be a useless lump, but I really needed a break. By this time, my anxiety was out of control, my sleeping pattern was seriously messed up, and I was having at least 2 panic attacks a day.

My parents were especially helpful during this hard time. They understood what was going on, did their best to help me out, and supported me. I know it was hard for them too, seeing me so unsteady. I found out later that my mom was also going to see a therapist in an attempt to help me even more. I don’t think she realized how much I appreciated all of her assistance; she would distract me when I was anxious, come lay in bed with me when she would come home from work if I were hiding, and bringing me Spidey when I needed it. My dad did a lot too, making sure that I wasn’t sitting in the house all the time and getting me out in the world so I would stop being afraid of everything.

After those 4 months at home, although I may not have been totally ready yet, I felt comfortable enough to move back to New Orleans after I took a job at Tulane. While I still struggle with anxiety and OCD, I have improved a lot (much thanks to my boyfriend, Bud).

I think I had to go through that difficult time to realize that I am stronger than I thought.


Life in athletics is full of what I like to call “mini-wins.”

We don’t have to get up on a lift to fix the problem with the video board: mini-win.

The baseball game was less than two hours today: mini-win.

The student workers showed up on time and were actually helpful today: mini-win.

Do you see what I’m saying?

When things are unexpectedly easier than you anticipated or something rolls in your favor, it’s a mini-win. It’s the small moment during the day that suddenly makes your life better, even for a limited time.

While we do experience “Big Wins”, in case you’re wondering. That would be like if we find out we’re getting the infield redone at baseball for free because of a warranty: Big Win.

Obviously, we have more mini-wins, but they’re good enough to keep you going for a while

Occupational hazards.

This next story is going to sound unbelievable, but you better believe it.

On Thursday, we were trying to move furniture from our basketball arena into our office. I had my student worker carrying a bookcase and I was carrying the shelves.

When the elevator got to the third floor, I let Ian out first (because what he was carrying was much bigger) and when I tried to  get out of the elevator, I dropped the shelves in the threshold. 

As I was trying to get the shelves moved, the elevator started buzzing because the door had been opened too long. It started forcing itself closed and I could do nothing to stop it.

The doors squashed my arm. I yanked it out.

Long story short, I’m in a splint up to my elbow with some possibly torn ligaments but no broken bones.

Occupational hazards.

They’re everywhere.