The word “shy” is not the choice adjective most of my friends use when describing me, but put me with a group of new people and I am instantly the wallflower. Whether it’s a new team, new school, or new church, I’ve proven to be an introvert over and over again in situations where I’m the “new one”.

But, without fail, there always comes that one fateful day when I wake up, go to that new place, and realize that I accidentally left my filter at home.

Unfortunately for the friends I’ve made since moving to Ohio, I’ve recently noticed I misplaced my filter again.

All of the sudden it seems like half of my sentences begin with, “I know this is T.M.I., but…”

The first half of this blog was written on Tuesday, October 20, 2015, two days before I was violently attacked. For your safety, I ask that you please read the entire post before purchasing a milk frother.

Tuesday, October 20, 2015 –

Yes, this is a blog about a milk frother. No, it isn’t symbolic for anything deep. I literally am writing about a milk frother.

Why would I post a blog about a milk frother?

Because it’s my blog. And the milk frother has changed my life.

There aren’t many times you hear people talk about how slow their life is in America. It’s usually “I’m so busy”, or “I just want things to slow down”.

But there is the occasional season in life where the opposite is true. Like working from home in a new place where you don’t know anyone.

Not that I know from personal experience.

In these seasons, our thoughts are more, “I’m so bored” and “I just want things to pick up.”

Maybe most of my readers are envious at that thought, but a few of you know exactly what I’m talking about.

In early engagement, when I first began thinking about the idea of “two becoming one” I sort of pictured it like the process of combining chocolate chips with cookie dough. In other words, the following equation:

Something Incredible + Something Incredible =
Something Super-Duper Incredible.

That’s bull.

Two words start with “D-E” that sometimes have the same connotation to me. One is devil. The other is debt.

It’s now 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning after a sleepless night, and I’ll be honest, it’s one of those days when “devil” and “debt” seem synonymous.

I grew up listening to Dave Ramsey whenever I was in my dad’s truck and even had to read one of his books before I got my first cell phone. So being newly married, 25, and knee-deep in debt sometimes makes me feel like I’m failing at life.

Brandon and I would both very much like to be out of debt before we have children or buy a house.

But as many of our friends begin that process, I can’t help but feel like we will never get there.

Maybe you feel that way too.