The Shawna Chronicles - A Bantering Buffet of Unfiltered Truths

This is a story that I wrote in 2017. It resurfaced in my memories, and I am sharing it here. A break from seriousness is often needed, and real-life stuff can be entertaining AF. Note: my bio says I cuss, this story has cussing.   There isn’t a need to be technical about times, just the incidences that have occurred.   Laundry. I love laundry. I rock at laundry. I love fabric’s softness, I love the detergents, I love Clorox 2. I love bleach for my whites.   Oh how I love laundry. I'm humming as I sort my laundry. I make my piles: colors, darks, and whites.   I grab a pile and make my way down the hall to the laundry room.   Did I mention we have wood floors?   Did I also mention, if you drop a sock because you are carrying your laundry in front of you and step on that said sock, you might slip a little, pull your groin and bump your weenis on the door handle of the closet?   I never understood why they call it the...

Every heard the expression - you're such a tool? It's meant to be an insult. When someone calls another person a "tool," they’re usually saying that person is being used by others, acting foolishly, or trying too hard to impress. It implies that the person lacks self-awareness or is blindly following someone else's lead, like a literal tool being used for someone else's purpose.  Well, that's not what this little story is about. You are the tool.  You are the force.  You are the change. You hold the damn blueprint, the hammer, the nails, the screws, and the whole damn toolbox for your life. It’s yours. You were born with it. So if you hand those tools over to someone else -if you let them build a version of you that fits their comfort zone, their expectations, their idea of who you should be - then yeah, I’m going to say it: you're a tool. Because no one—and I mean no one—has the right to define your limits. No one gets to decide what you’re capable of...

I know what it’s like when life feels like it’s closing in from every direction... when the pressure is so heavy it feels like you're carrying the world on your back. I know the ache of stretching every dollar, of counting coins and cutting corners,  just to make it through another day. I know the emptiness of forgetting the last time your smile was real,  and the loneliness that lingers even when you're surrounded by people. But I also know something else. I know the quiet strength that lives inside a hopeful heart. I know the power of remembering who you are and how far you’ve come. I know the gratitude that comes from having a job that helps you stand on your own two feet. I know the kind of laughter that bubbles up from your soul and reminds you you're still alive. I know the courage it takes to reach out and say, “I need help,”  and the beauty of finding someone who answers, “I’ve got you.” I know the comfort of being wrapped in the love of family,  and the resi...