Just Get Out
I thought I was planning a road trip.
Turns out I was packing a whole damn suitcase full of old patterns and taking them with me.
Control. Performance. Procrastination. Fear. Irritation.
They all showed up somewhere between a Rand McNally, a Kentucky license plate, a coffee angel, a Cracker Barrel roach, and a hotel shower that apparently required WD-40 and pliers.
But this trip taught me something important: just because an old pattern knows how to find me doesn’t mean it gets to move back in.
Sometimes you have to recognize what’s knocking, remember who you are now, and say exactly what I…
The skinny
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