The Book of Me

Your stuff can wait Perhaps it's my bah humbug attitude of the holidays I have acquired since Xavier's death, but I have some serious concerns about the back-to-work legislation expected to be imposed on our postal workers this week. To be clear, I have no friends or family (that I am aware of) in the postal industry and nor do I pretend to know all the facts of this issue. However, the argument looking in from the outside is quite simple: The quality of people's lives versus the commercialism of Christmas. It is a classic battle between people and stuff. Postal workers say they are fighting for better working conditions, for work-life balance so they can spend more time living not working. The government wants to force them back to work to ensure gifts and cards get delivered in time for Christmas. Because it is a huge inconvenience for Canadians not to receive these things. " The issue has quickly become tense for many Canadians because Canada Post is cruc

Series:  Where language and emotion collide re·al 1 /ˈrē(ə)l/ adjective 1. actually existing as a thing or occurring in fact; not imagined or supposed. "Julius Caesar was a real person" synonyms: actual , nonfictional,  factual , real-life;  More 2. (of a substance or thing) not imitation or artificial; genuine. "the earring was presumably real gold" synonyms: genuine ,  authentic ,  bona fide ;  More Stop using real for everything!  This is my rant for the day. I love our language, but like an overplayed song on the radio, words lose their effectiveness. I used to love [blank] song, but now I hate it because I have heard it way too much. Is this something you may have said before? Overuse destroys words in the same way. It diminishes its meaning and tangles its purpose.  It seems everything today must be coined "real" something. Perhaps it&

  I am trying hard not to be sad. I am trying hard to see the positive. In fact I remind myself all the time of everything I am thankful for and blessed to have. But I am still sad. I actually feel proud because I get out of bed everyday. Some days I would rather not but I do it anyways. But I am starting to get angry. I can feel it bubbling up inside me. Every time I can’t pull that smile together or I do and it’s so disgustingly fake it makes me want to puke, I get more upset. I want to be happy, I want to enjoy Christmas again and I want to make sure Mackenzie has the best Christmas season too. But as much as I want it, and yes   I know the saying if you want something bad enough you can make it happen, but I am failing. I guess maybe I don’t want it as much as I think. I am happy to be sad yet I feel the pressure to pretend. And when I can’t hold back the tears, I get angry. This dark cloak gets draped over me and it’s too heavy to just shrug off. There are days I