Ain’t No Sunshine…


 Friends, I might need an intervention.


Over the past couple of weeks, it’s been sunless here and I think it’s starting to get to me.

Here is where I confess, it’s January 9th and…


  1. My Christmas tree is still up. (This is where you unfriend me on Facebook. It’s okay, I get.) In complete defeat, or laziness, I read an article on all the ways you can actually justify its permanency. Who knew that a Christmas Tree can double as a Superbowl Tree, Valentine’s Tree…Cat Tree–I’m going to have to get a cat to justify that one)…Help me, with taking the tree down, not with getting a cat.
  2. Since I started this blog (40 days ago), I’ve spent most my days in my office, perched behind my Mac, pretending I have a real paying job with deadlines. Yes, I’m convinced I write for the Post, like the New York Post. (laugh with me, or at me. Again, I get it.)
  3. One word. Laundry. AKA: the bane of my existence. I mean, hello, I have deadlines—I cannot be bothered with providing my family with clean laundry.
  4. Confession: Trav informed me yesterday that if I didn’t get laundry done he was going to have to start turning his underwear inside out, or risk being chaffed going commando. (this is where you scream, “TMI!” and he dies of embarrassment—love you honey!)
  5. I did the laundry, okay. The man has clean underwear (and the beauties, too)…also, if you’re easily offended this is not the blog for you.

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See, I’m so ashamed.  I can’t even make eye contact with you…even my smiley face is looking away crying.


I think five confessions is the right place to stop. I may have went too far already.

So, this is where you write me, telling me your Christmas tree is still up (misery loves needs company, I have to be able to name drop when my husband questions me about the Chr…Superbowl tree), and like me, you’ve spent entirely too much time daydreaming about what you’d spend 900 million dollars on when you win the lottery tonight.

We are going to win friends, then vacation together in Maldives, eating caviar, drinking Rose, and then we are going to wake up, because we really didn’t win—think that last episode of ‘Lost’. (tear…)

Truly, I hope you are achieving, that your New Years Resolution game is going strong, that you know that life is peaks, valleys, and non-stop climbing—and it’s okay to stop to eat cake, or pretend you’re employed by the Post, or that you dump your husband’s entire 401K at Circle K on Lotto tickets, because clearly it’s a wise investment (I’m kidding, or I’m not and you’ll be mad you didn’t do the same when I win tonight), and that you are chasing your dream, whatever it is…even if it means dirty laundry becomes a full-blown epidemic in your house.  It will be okay.

“Be fearless in pursuit of what sets your soul on fire.” –Jennifer Lee

Loves,

—Sarah

Author: Sarah Black

I'm a self-professed 'Drama Mama'...of four daughters, I blog to (over)share my stories on learning to maintain my sanity by strictly eating laughter in the emotional land of motherhood while trying to keep my husband from running away from the sheer amount of estrogen flooding our house.

2 thoughts on “Ain’t No Sunshine…”

    1. Angie, no judging here–mine came down on the 21st, only because we’re having a party at our home at the end of the month. Throw some hearts on it and call yours a Valentine’s tree.

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