Work, work, work. . .

Heeey,

I've got so much work to do, I think my work is having babies! So why am I blogging when I should be working? Because I said I would get better about blogging and saying what's going on. Between going to school, yes, I'm a Master's program at FDU, writing not one, not two, not three, but four books, homework, teenagers who have jobs and no cars, teenagers who eat more than vegetables and fruit(I hate that they're not vegetarians like me), I'm still grieving Mom and Grandma's passing--but getting better, gearing up for our annual Femme Fantastik Tour, bills that sit and wait, and other miscellaneous stuff I can't do anything about, AND I don't have another outside paying job besides writing to offset this life--well, you know the single mama song. I have more days at the end of the month than dollars, and the stress of it all makes me want to Hollaaaaa!!!

But--
I am a lot of things. Loved. Blessed. Thankful. Tired. A little sad. A little scared. Humble. Honored. Grateful.
To be who I am. Have what I have. Do what I do. Be where I am.

A friend offered me a basketful of poor baby's today. As useless as butterflies, so I smiled and walked away. All I could think of is what it must have been like for our ancestors to plow fields, side by side. Swinging and chopping. All day. Everyday. How if one faltered and had to lean a bit, the person next to them took up the slack, and after a minute everybody went back to toiling their own row.
Today I needed two things. A cool breeze, and someone holding each wrist so I could lean.

JBM--Just Being Me,

Carmen