This is the part of me my author bio never quite covers. Career chaos, certified overthinking, and the days the dogs ruined my whole schedule on purpose. Nothing here is fiction, though some days I wish it were.
What lives here
This is the unfiltered folder.
Not Whitmore County, not the Barkington crew, just me. Former CNA shifts, malpractice records, corporate sentiments, the WGU leap, the exam nerves getting my Advocate credential, the days the dogs ruined my productivity on purpose. If Whitmore County is fiction dressed as truth, this is truth dressed as whatever I felt like wearing that day.
From CNA to HIT
The winding, unglamorous route from bedside care to records, and everything I picked up along the way.
3 a.m. thoughts
The essays that started as a spiral and somehow made sense by the time I hit publish.
Behind the author photo
What the polished version of me quietly leaves out.
Read the stories
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The Ceiling Was Never the Whole Building
Nobody warns you that going back to school at this age feels less like a fresh start and more like showing up to your own surprise party wearing the wrong outfit. I said yes anyway.
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Hortence Declined My Friendship
I tried to make a new friend in a parking lot. She had pearls, a cracker road, and zero interest in me. This is the story of Hortence, my therapist, and my questionable relationship with Tang.
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Emptiness: Season Two
Same girl, same emptiness, upgraded sarcasm. A dark, funny, painfully honest look at what happens when depression and anxiety come back for round two, and why the sun keeps rising anyway.
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New Job, New Rules: What Nobody Tells You About Starting Over
My first day in Health Information was exactly what you expect. I got my cubicle, set up my computer, watched training videos, completed account setups, and slowly worked my way into the system.
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Bonfires, Mosquitos, and the Irony of Being a Tourist Who Hates Tourists
We planned s’mores. The store had no marshmallows. I became the only mosquito buffet at the bonfire while everyone sat unbothered. My brother filmed it without finding my good angle. And then three dogs did something that stopped me completely.
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Crab Island, One Brave Dog, One Smart Dog, and a Nap That Erased Sunday Morning
The Gulf Coast welcomed me by pouring salt water into every scrape I had forgotten existed. Savannah jumped in without a plan. Horatio evaluated the water, rejected it, and claimed the captain’s chair. I completed my ocean experience and went to bed at 8 p.m.
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Destin, Dogs, and a Very Public Loss of Dignity
I had a very clear agreement with my couch. Joe had not been informed. Ten hours, two dogs, zero coffee filters, and one very public pavement incident in Destin, Florida.
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Why This Blog Makes Zero Sense (And I Refuse to Fix It)
Two tabs open at all times: one for my dogs’ nonsense, one for fictional corporate elder neglect. This is the blog where both live.
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From the Requesting Side to the Releasing Side: The Shadowing
My calendar was a vast empty field with nothing in it but ambition, three unfinished seasons of a show I keep meaning to watch, and two dogs who needed a walk. I told her I did not want to double-book myself. She put me on hold. I aged three years.
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From the Requesting Side to the Releasing Side: A Records Specialist’s Identity Crisis
For two years I was the woman on the other end of your fax machine. Now I am interviewing for the job on the other side of the desk. A dispatch from the Billable Inferno on HIPAA chaos, reference questionnaires, and the moment you accidentally become the records department.
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Destin, Florida: A Weekend I Was Not Ready For
I flew to Destin to support my brother through the hardest week of his life. Four days of overslept mornings, Liar’s UNO, a goodbye party with string lights, and one last boat trip for a dalmatian named Manchas. Pour yourself a cup of something warm.
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In Memory of a Beloved Best Friend
This is not a sad story. It is the story of Manchas, a Dalmatian who spent 13 years making one Florida house louder, warmer, and full of trouble in the best way possible. Road trips across states, beach days at Crab Island, birthday hats worn with full dignity, and at least one criminal incident involving…
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What in the Seven Heavens, Bogotá!
August 2025, the day a routine Bogotá layover turned into a Colombian hostage situation, a missed flight, an empty airport, and one taxi driver who saved my night. A drama queen travel disaster, fully resurrected from the Facebook graveyard.
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I Did Not Need the Box
They came with a box. I did not need it. The day they moved me back to the cubes I had already taken everything home. This is the story of a Tuesday, a list of accusations against my poor innocent self, Machiavelli, nutty bars, and walking out without looking back.
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The Pupcup Debt
Savannah complained about one too many pictures. Horatio heard Starbucks and lost his mind. Dad turned left toward Popeyes. Nobody got a pupcup. Everybody got a lesson. This is the true and dramatic story of The Pupcup Debt, as told by the senior investigative correspondents of Silent Voices.
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The Yearversary — Because Anniversary Was Already Taken | Chapter 4
Year Two is when the training wheels come off and nobody tells you. You just show up one day and realize they are already gone and everyone is acting like this was always the arrangement.
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The Yearversary — Because Anniversary Was Already Taken | Chapter 3
The morning of April 17, 2024 felt like a simulation. My nervous system kept sending one notification on repeat: you do not have to do this. You could turn around. I kept driving anyway.
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The Yearversary — Because Anniversary Was Already Taken | Chapter 2
People always ask what I miss about the nursing home. Not the nurses. Not the heavy lifting. What I missed was the residents. Full stop. No competition, no close second. This chapter is for them.
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The Yearversary — Because Anniversary Was Already Taken | Chapter 1
Most people would look at today and see an ordinary Friday. I have always been that girl who circles dates in red and shows up to her own celebrations with a full agenda and zero shame. This is my yearversary. Pull up a chair.
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The Day My Body Told the Truth
Where I come from, we fight the world with a good mood. We do not let illness defeat us. So when my doctor told me I had depression and anxiety, my jaw dropped. I had survived four armed men without flinching. How could I have anxiety in a safe, quiet life?
