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Today was a cautiously good day where I could see myself learning the ropes; processing referrals felt smoother, and I'm starting to grasp the system. Even though I had a facepalm moment realizing "pt" means patient while verifying dictations, I know I'm making progress and slowly getting closer to my required hours.

This week has been rough: I'm frustrated by the high cost of healthy living advice and struggling to implement small changes like cooking for myself. The intense pressure at my co-op, combined with having to make up hours and learning complex tasks like referral processing, has left me feeling mortified and completely overwhelmed by the change in my routine. I'm having a hard time adjusting to all this new stress and the need to constantly perform.

My Medical Office Administration program is teaching me more than forms and software—it’s teaching me patience, organization, and confidence in ways no textbook ever could.

Snow blanketed the edge of the Rohit Shashee as Berenice curled up in her cabin, a glass of human blood in hand, the flicker of a Hallmark movie casting fleeting warmth across the room. Decades of memories pressed in—the dark, the dangerous, and the rare moments of comfort. A phone call from her brother stirred laughter, nostalgia, and a reminder that even in the quiet of New Year’s Eve, the past—and its shadows—never truly leave.

Starting my co-op at Niagara Plastic Surgery has been equal parts exciting and terrifying. Somewhere between caffeine pills, mirror selfies, and late-night prayers, I realized what I was really feeling: fear. But with a little humor, a lot of Jesus, and the occasional awkward photo to document it all, I’m learning how to show up—imperfect, but present.

Starting my co-op at Niagara Plastic Surgery has been equal parts exciting and terrifying. Somewhere between caffeine pills, mirror selfies, and late-night prayers, I realized what I was really feeling: fear. But with a little humor, a lot of Jesus, and the occasional awkward photo to document it all, I’m learning how to show up—imperfect, but present.

Snow blanketed the edge of the Rohit Shashee as Berenice curled up in her cabin, a glass of human blood in hand, the flicker of a Hallmark movie casting fleeting warmth across the room. Decades of memories pressed in—the dark, the dangerous, and the rare moments of comfort. A phone call from her brother stirred laughter, nostalgia, and a reminder that even in the quiet of New Year’s Eve, the past—and its shadows—never truly leave.

Vampires, werewolves, and the supernatural have always fascinated me—not as monsters of darkness, but as mirrors of the human experience. They’ve been my escape, my companions, and even my teachers, reflecting my fears, longings, and the questions I wasn’t ready to ask. Over time, faith reshaped how I see them, adding new depth to the stories I’ve carried with me since I was fourteen. Maybe that’s why we never stop returning to these myths—because in their shadows, we recognize pieces of ourselves.

Sometimes the smallest wins can shift our mindset, motivation, and resilience—and that’s the truth in those words. The proof is in experience. Have you noticed how you feel when you set small goals and actually achieve them? Recognizing those little wins in yourself is half the battle of getting your ducks in a row. Big goals can be intimidating and overwhelming. We can lose that forward motion, stuck in the weight of the “bigger picture” instead of rolling into action. I often experience this myself and end up flustered and knotted up, unable to think straight—making mistakes with even the simplest of tasks. Society’s obsession with milestones and highlight reels has always felt overblown to me. I’ll admit, I’ve had the thought: “Why would anyone care?” Personally, I’m not going to post on Stories or Instagram that I remembered to take my meds in the morning—but I have shared when my cat demands attention while I’m rushing through my routine to get the day started. When I take the time to sit with my thoughts (sometimes journaling helps), the noise starts to peel back and I can see what actually needs to be done today, and what can wait until tomorrow. More often than not, the root of my anxiety is simple: my space is a mess, and I’m out of clean bowls. Once I recognize that, I can set small goals—tidy my station, stack things up, and tackle the dishes in my tiny kitchen. I may grumble and sulk through it, but when it’s done, that burden is gone. Little accomplishments do matter. Those few moments of “I did it”—and maybe even a small happy dance—can feel so rewarding. Accomplishing things is crucial for me, which is probably why it drives me up the wall when I’m at my parents’ house and all we do is watch TV and complain about people who’ve hurt us or turned out to be not-so-great friends. Success isn’t just the final goal—it’s built brick by brick. That first push to get moving can carry you further than you expected, simply because you made the effort. And honestly? In those moments, I think a happy dance is mandatory. The little steps aren’t just preparation for the “real” thing—they are the journey. When I handle the small tasks, I’m calmer, more prepared, and ready to tackle the bigger goals. It’s part of why I’m not freaking out about finally starting what I’ve been waiting on for months this Tuesday. I’ve been preparing, my friends have supported me in setting goals, and in the meantime, I’ve even managed to make most of a hexagon cardigan. No win is too small to matter. For some, making the bed sets the tone for a day of order. For others, a simple morning routine keeps the whole day flowing smoothly. Whatever it looks like for you—today, notice one small win, and let it count.

Finally started the hexagon cardi I’ve been talking about for years. Yarn’s flying, mistakes are happening, but it’s coming together—and I might even wear it instead of a “real” jacket.

Some days, the hardest part of chasing a dream isn’t the work—it’s simply showing up. I didn’t want to go to my placement meeting, my head was screaming, and my emotions were throwing a tantrum. But once I pushed past the “what ifs” and walked through the door, things started to move forward. That’s the strange power of showing up: it doesn’t erase the fear, but it proves you’re stronger than the excuses.

Ma wants me to write instead of drinking or fighting, but the wolf in me won’t quit. The leeches are too quiet—too still. Something ancient is waking, and it’s bad news. I can’t drown it or run from it. All I’ve got is this pit in my gut and the truth I can’t say.

Life isn’t a neat row of stitches—it’s a half-finished knitting project with knots, dropped stitches, and the occasional urge to unravel the whole thing. I’ve learned that the mess isn’t the end—it’s where the real magic begins. Sometimes, that means letting go of what we thought we were making, ripping it back, and starting fresh. Other times, it means walking into life’s challenges with our “ducks in a row” mask firmly in place… even when, in reality, those ducks are golden-brown, seasoned, and ready to be served. Because life’s beauty isn’t in following the perfect pattern—it’s in the creative modifications we make along the way.

It's still morning, but the blank stare is already setting in. Trapped in a holding pattern while waiting for news from school, I'm trying to distract myself with knitting, writing, and deep breaths. I'm reminded of the long, tedious day stretching out before me.

Last September, I stepped into something completely unfamiliar—returning to school as an adult, chasing a second chance in a field far from my artistic roots. What I didn’t expect was how much it would shake me, stretch me, and silently force me to confront things like stress, perfectionism, and self-worth. This post is a raw reflection on that journey—the messy, honest middle between who I was and who I’m becoming. If you’ve ever felt like you were rebuilding yourself while the world kept spinning, this one’s for you.

Sometimes joy comes in the simplest moments—a quiet evening, a shared laugh, or even the comfort of a familiar color. I didn’t think I could come up with thirty things that truly make me happy, but once I started, the list surprised me. This post is part reflection, part invitation—for you to pause and think about the things that light you up too. Here's a little piece of my heart, one happy thing at a time.

They’ve lived among us for centuries—Shifters, Vampires, and beings far older than legend dares whisper. The Inxieriea, a secret faction of shape-shifters, walk as wolves, big cats, and ravens, the…

Have you ever stopped to notice what you listen to while you work—or what it does to you? Whether it’s lo-fi beats, worship music, or the hum of an AC unit, the sounds we surround ourselves with shape more than just our mood; they guide our thoughts, fuel our creativity, and reflect our inner world. In this post, I share how music and ambient sound have influenced my focus, faith, and even how I fall asleep at night. From worship nights to stormy playlists, here’s a glimpse into the soundscape that helps me stay grounded, productive, and connected. What’s your go-to sound while you work?

Have you ever stopped to notice what you listen to while you work—or what it does to you? Whether it’s lo-fi beats, worship music, or the hum of an AC unit, the sounds we surround ourselves with shape more than just our mood; they guide our thoughts, fuel our creativity, and reflect our inner world. In this post, I share how music and ambient sound have influenced my focus, faith, and even how I fall asleep at night. From worship nights to stormy playlists, here’s a glimpse into the soundscape that helps me stay grounded, productive, and connected. What’s your go-to sound while you work?