This is a lot of pressure.

It’s very possible, likely even, that no one will ever read these words. This blog could very well end up in the corner of some world wide web room of requirement. (Pouring one out for my main man Dumbledore.) But still….the pressure of the first post. The cursor is blinking at me like it’s daring me to even attempt being brilliant. It’s weird. I hate that word. I mean, what a terrible word. My Grandma pronounces it ‘were-id’, which is kind of wonderful of her. But she also says Ha-way-ya instead of Hawaii and remembers when it wasn’t even a state. WHAT AM I EVEN SAYING.

When the idea of this blog first emerged, it was because I had so much to say. That was yesterday when I was fired up about something and needed a soapbox to stand on. But now my embers are barely fanned and I’m sipping strawberry pink lemonade so it’s hard to get too upset about anything. So I’m questioning why I thought it such a good idea to add some other something to my already overflowing, half-cracked plate. I still haven’t shared the fact that this blog (lawls, do I HAVE to call it that?) exists with the world–not even Doc. It still feels erasable. As long as I don’t say it out loud–that I’m one of “those crazy bloggers” then I can snatch back my words before they ever leak out. The permanence of the internet alarms me, like a real life rule on no takesies backsies.

It’s just that sometimes when you’re a wife/mom/student/housekeeper/real housewife of medical school/chef/landscaper/whatever it’s not so easy to find something that belongs to you. Because in a world where your child wants to eat your last cinnamon roll, you give her the cinnamon roll, EVEN WHEN YOU REALLY WANT THAT DARN CINNAMON ROLL. And honestly, most of the time you don’t even belong to yourself. So I thought this could my place. My own little corner of the internet; which is kind of like a treehouse for grownups. And I like that. A lot.

If you’re looking for life changing anecdotes or inspiration, you may need to keep searching, but you’re more than welcome to take a glimpse through my window and live life together for a while. And while I’m sure that I have more questions than answers, I’m looking forward to this journey. And if nothing else, hey, we can share a few laughs. I can’t exactly provide you a preview of the things you’ll find when you visit–religion, politics, a story about finding my kid finger-painting in her own poop, who knows? But I hope you’ll visit just the same.

I promise to be more clever when I’ve had a decent night’s sleep….in 16 years. But for now, here’s a picture of myself, Doc and Rosebud in our natural habitat…eating cake.


Love and other drugs,
E. Hunter W.


2 thoughts on “This is a lot of pressure.

  1. Well my dear youngest daughter, I’m very happy you’re writing! Yes, I know you’re opinionated because you have a lot of me in you! I can’t wait to read more and either agree or debate! Whatever, you make me think and laugh! Love you and remember, you ate my cinnamon rolls too! Along with the last drink!


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