Photo by Michael Longmire on Unsplash

I have a lot of debt.

I mean, a lot of it. Over $370,000. Of that, over $200,000 is student loans, and about $120,000 is my mortgage. The rest is credit cards and loans.

I’ve spent all of my adult life chasing money. I have spent more sleepless nights than I can count, trying to figure out how to “rob Peter to pay Paul” as my mother always said. I’ve floated bad checks, hoping they won’t clear until payday. I’ve taken payday loans. I’ve never been unemployed. I’ve never lived extravagantly. I don’t take vacations. I got my masters degree…


I grew up poor. Poor like if my grandparents hadn’t provided us a house to live in, we would have been homeless. Poor like food insecure, poor like one school uniform to last the entire year.

And it sucked. There was nothing cute or quaint about it. It was eating pasta for months on end, never going to the dentist, and having a constantly stressed out mother that cried at the drop of a hat and screamed into her pillow at night because she couldn’t provide me the things she wanted to. It was misery, for both of us.

I…


Yeah, I stole that line from Piano Man, one of my favourite ever Billy Joel songs (I mean, isn’t it one of everyone’s favourite songs?), which is a song (if you are somehow unfamiliar with Billy Joel’s extensive and glorious lexicon) about people who have been deeply, profoundly, defeated by the trajectory of their own lives.

There’s a reason this song is a classic, and it’s not just Billy Joel’s buttery smooth Long Island croon or his damn near angelic piano playing (I’m a fan, okay??). …


By Kaz on Pixabay

I turn 41 tomorrow.

I had planned to spend this past weekend, while my children spent the weekend with their dad, going out with my wife, having a few cocktails, and celebrating. Instead, my planned weekend disintegrated in the face of a bad cold turned sinus infection. We spent the weekend binging Schitt’s Creek, knitting, and downing a gallon or two of spicy ramen.

And it was…perfect.

We sat each on one end of the sofa, one or several dogs piled between us, surrounded by skeins of yarn, Kleenex boxes, and abandoned cups of coffee. Every now and then, one…


I’ll be honest. I’m not living the life that I want to be living. I’m still working a 9–5, grinding away at a desk all day, missing time with my children and my wife, sending my dogs to daycare so they don’t live in crates all day, and struggling to make ends meet financially. I spend far too much time on computers and phones, far too much money on trying to entertain myself enough to make it through another work week without losing my everloving mind.

It’s…not ideal.

But I have a growing certainty that some other kind of life…

Mama Bear

Mama bear living in Baltimore, trying to slow it all down and enjoy life. Dreams of a tiny cabin in the woods.

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