About five days ago, I was hit with an infection that ripped my legs, and my voice, right out from under me. My throat was on fire, and eating or drinking, much less talking, felt like I was trying to consume broken glass. So, here I was, an extrovert with no outlet. Because, when you lose your voice, it's very hard to be the life of the party. I watched the world spin on without my involvement, heard my children playing, unable to join in on the laughter or the fun. Truthfully, it bummed me out. I began feeling a loneliness folding in on me, a dark night without stars. When I finally got over my neurotic fear of being left out of life, realizing this was not a permanent condition, I sat back and started to notice a few things. 1) If you speak less often, people are more apt to pay attention when you finally do. Understanding what an effort it was for me to talk, my family sat up and paid attention when I did feel the necessity to do so. This is not the usual response, I
Miranda Bradley is a master juggler. Of life, that is. Owner of BCreative, a marketing firm in Georgetown, Texas, Miranda is, at any given time, cooking with one hand, typing with another, hugging one of her two children with her elbow, signing permission slips with pen-to-mouth, holding a speaker phone conversation and making dinner, all at the same time. And she is usually wearing pearls and a circle skirt, looking fabulous as always. Okay, maybe not the last part, but the rest is true ...