Kristi Pahr

I’m lazy as hell, you guys. I know it’s true and I’m not particularly ashamed.

Life looks a lot different at 40 than it did at 25, and I have a whole new list of things to worry about. It's a very long list, and it makes me anxious on the best day, plain terrified on the worst day, and on a run-of-the-mill day, it just keeps reminding me that I'm clueless about what to think and what to do and how to be grown.

I have to go shopping tomorrow and I’m dreading it.

“Is she Black or white?” I asked another mom who was describing a little girl in her son’s class that she thought my family might know.

I’m frazzled, y’all; I’m a mess. I’m a basketcase of anxiety and stress and I need to chill.

Things as simple as a missed call from an unknown number or someone knocking on your door put me into straight up fight or flight. I really do hide from people who come to my door. Real talk, I have gotten on my hands and knees below a window so they wouldn’t see me. I’ve even hidden in the closet. I know. Whacko.

I’m not a TV person. I used to be, but not so much anymore.