Blogging It Out.

I literally just had a pep-talk with myself that ended with “C’mon Morgan, blog it out.”  No, seriously.

In case my radio-silence-followed-by-jealousy-post didn’t tip you off, I am having a week (or two) and while I stared aimlessly at my computer monitor trying to will myself to work, I imagined myself typing HARD a’la Kevin Bacon in footloose, jump starting my brain in to functioning mode. (Because we all know having “heavy boots” as my friend Mandy calls it does nothing for our motivation.)

So, YES…my inner voice is as pop-culture-soaked and frenetic as my outside one.            [I have GOT to stop posting about my conversations with myself on the internet.]

…Although, in watching as a parent, Kevin Bacon, maybe John Lithgow wasn’t so wrong about you, you ARE drinking and driving LITERALLY AT THE SAME TIME in the moments leading up to that anger dance.

People just don’t Dance-Out enough shit any more. I did, however bake a challah and clean my kitchen yesterday in hopes of calming my mind. For those unfamiliar, yesterday was Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement, and challah-baking (or baking in general) is not high on the list of ways you’re supposed to be spending a day which dictates that one fast to the point of not brushing their teeth…so you can imagine the collective halitosis that develops in a congregation full of unwashed mouths and empty stomach as we edge toward the later portion of the day. Anyway, I didn’t exactly keep a kosher Yom Kippur this year, but I did observe the day in my own way, and I have to say, I kind of loved it.

I took Delilah to youth services at our Temple, which turned out to be regular services where no one gets upset if you speak to your neighbor at full volume, or let your kid run amok in the aisles. There’s something I weirdly love about hearing my kiddo anxiously chatter about the shofar. It’s one of those freaky life moments where you realize you’re old, but in the good way.

Making the challah, for me, was a nice way to step away from the computer and put down the legos and take a quiet moment for myself.  Working from home the way I do, every day looks the same, even the weekends, even the different ones, so I tend to relish in those moments, like yesterday, where life forces me to do something different.

Someone on instagram said my challah looked like a poop, but I still think it looked delicious.

Feed Me Seymour