You Are a Badass

I began resigning myself to the fact
that I’d blown it. Instead of having faith
in The Universe and joyously
anticipating the manifestation of my
dream home, I started shrinking and
talking myself into taking what I could
get. What am I whining about? I’m
lucky to have my mom’s house to go to.
I love her. Plus she’ll feed me lasagna
while I’m writing. Then I realized what
I was doing. What kind of hypocrite
would I be if I got all fearful, small-
minded, and low-vibe about where to
write my book about how not to go
through life fearful, small-minded, and
low-vibe?