Happy Sunday, The call gets bumped again. An hour.Then a half hour.Then another call runs long.Then tomorrow.Then next week. By the time we talk, my talking points have gone stale, and my patience went with them. I know the script that plays in my head. Disrespectful. Inconsiderate. Doesn’t value my time. The frustration feels righteous. Feels earned. And then the counter floats up: I never said a word. Six reschedules and not once did I say, “Two bumps max, then we find a new day together.”…

Happy Sunday, I look up from my screen and out the window. It’s 5:37. The light in the room has dimmed. I’ve been at my desk since before 9am. A couple bathroom breaks. A trip to the kitchen for a banana. Otherwise, right here. This chair. This room. These slippers. This is what I wanted. Two years ago, I was aiming for this. Work from home. Control over my time. Getting paid for ideas instead of hours. I got what I asked for. And now I’m sitting here realizing I haven’t left the house in…

Happy Sunday, She’s walking through numbers. What feels realistic. What needs to wait. “At least for now,” she says. “I think it means tightening things up.” I nod. I can feel myself doing it. My chest is doing something else. Resistance swells under the surface. I don’t want my life to get smaller. We’re sitting at the dinner table. Plates pushed aside. The familiar instinct shows up. Avoid it. Smooth it over. Let it go. But this is what I asked for. Quality time. Honest conversations. More…

Happy Sunday, This wasn’t the plan for Christmas Eve. I’m driving east, watching the sky flatten into fading gray. Thin lines of snow cross the road like zebra stripes, dark against the white, wispy layer blowing right to left from one field to the next. The plan was simpler. Family would visit the weekend before Christmas. We’d do the meals, exchange gifts, then settle back into a quiet holiday break at home. Instead, I’m losing light, halfway to Saskatchewan. Feeling the familiar mix of…

Happy Sunday, On November 30th, 2023, I officially joined Late Checkout. Two years ago today. When the official offer came through, it felt surreal. I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel qualified. But something was happening, and I wasn’t about to look away. I’d spent months in the trenches. Writing posts, sending cold emails, chasing opportunities I hoped might lead somewhere (they didn’t). I didn’t know what the role would turn into. I only knew I wanted a life built on writing, thinking, and…

Happy Sunday, I’m suffering from nutrition dysmorphia. It’s not a real thing. I made it up. But maybe you can relate. See, I like to tell myself I eat ‘healthy’. I avoid gluten, lactose, corn, and eat simple foods. That doesn’t equal nutritious. On October 2nd, I demolished a full gluten-free pizza. Felt fine. Until the next morning. I woke up nauseous, sweating, and horizontal by necessity. Felt like I had a boulder in my guts all day. After consulting ChatGPT, I arrived at one possible…