I was born at St. Joe’s hospital in Milwaukee and spent the next 18 years living within 10 miles from the joint. I was a (spoiled) only child who has a couple embarrassing moments recorded on film. (Why, Maggie, why did you open the 3′ X 3′ box if you were looking for a phone that Christmas?)
I had a pretty awesome Grand Am that had cancer holes, a miniature schnauzer named Max that was the closest thing I had to a brother, awesome parents, and a wing in their house. I had wickedly bad skin and crushes on a different boy every week, but I also had a bunch of great friends that made high school pretty awesome. On paper I should’ve been Homecoming Queen (cheerleader captain, yearbook editor, social committee peppy chick), but I was (semi-)ok with watching in the background somewhere in the middle of clique hierarchy. Yet that wasn’t enough.
After finishing up Catholic high school (as a non-Catholic), I ran away to South Carolina for college. I learned how to do my own laundry and take care of myself when sick, so when I graduated, I expected a CEO position. I knew everything by then, right?
WRONG! I’ve had (and broken up with) a long-term boyfriend, purchased my own home and negotiated my way out of $25,000 attrition bills for work, but I still felt like I was just playing at this. I’m not a grown-up…that’s what my parents are! That was…until 2009 happened and the roof caved in…