It's one hell of a spot to be. April 2024, Downtown Kansas City. An Intersection of Railroads. I find myself here, used to the daily grind, the side hustles, and the journalism training that taught me in a time when we were told we couldn't simply be reporters – we were going to have to do it all. "Gone are the days you can simply interview and write," professors would say, reminiscing on simpler times while warning we nervous 20-year-olds about the current order. "These days

There's a looming, gripping, all-consuming, and sinister part of wedding planning that no one ever talks about. It feels sort of like when my high school boyfriend dumped me the week before Winter Formal, but I was hosting the group dinner, so all my friends came with their dates for a meal, and I sat alone at the end of the table and nobody mentioned what had happened. We ate catered fried rice and orange chicken in my parents' dining room and had a good ole time, joking and

I'll admit, I'm not a hiring manager. I’m sure there’s a lot that goes into it—far more than applicants ever fully see. Like online dating, it must be exhausting to sift through mountains of profiles, flirt over email, get excited about meeting someone, and then realize halfway through the date that they might be a dud. There’s also the opposite problem: when it’s going really well. You’re surprised at how well it’s going, and you start wondering if there’s a catch. Is this

I sent the email to my principal about not returning to teach in April of 2025. That’s crazy. Even crazier is the passage of time in one year. I feel like I’ve lived several years inside that one alone. Just before the start of 2025, I discovered some intense information about my personal relationships, which meant I began in January with just me and the dog. I shoveled the driveway during an actual blizzard, sat at home watching " Goodfellas ," drank tea, and rubbed Vaselin

As I sit here in my cozy little sunroom, soaking in the afternoon light before dusk settles in at 4 p.m., I’m guzzling ice water and stretching my legs over a foam roller. I ran a 5K this morning along the trail, just like I have almost three times a week for most of this summer and fall. It still makes me laugh, because for years I told people I wasn’t a runner. Yet here I am on Turkey Trot Eve, race packet and mini pumpkin pie on the table, raffle ticket in the bucket to wi