Hi, I’m Jaclynn.
Welcome to a fun, everyday writing space.
I’m often nostalgic and unequivocally curious. My passion is being a mental health counselor.
I’m also a gardener, Muscovy duck owner, struggling declutterer, toddler mom, avid reader, and proficient budgeter.
I love music. So expect a healthy dose of lyrics, band names, and song titles sprinkled throughout my posts.
I hope you’ll laugh, learn something, and check in occasionally.
Anyway, I’m 41 now. So whether this blog’s title is relevant or not it’s up to you.
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Now, onto the blog!
Coming From Behind
I have buried in me, an Eeyore-like asshole that kicks rocks and spews “Meh’s” and, “This is boring,” for fun. No matter how…
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Why So Serious?
The crayon-written, scotch-taped on everything to-do notes are a memorable aspect of my grandparent’s cabin in Eastern, Washington. Affixed to heaters, the refrigerator, faucets,…
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Start A Riot
“I made a mess, Mom. You want me to make more a mess?” My sprite of a toddler is cocked, loaded and ready…
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Grow, Damn It!
Sad, Grinch-like barren trees line the approach to our house; someone before us buzz-cut their tops so they’re stunted. I don’t want stunt,…
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Rah, Rah, Sis Boom Bah
What if you could set yourself up for success continuously? How would you go about doing it? After a tough-on-myself past week, I’ve…
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A Committee Is Formed
I didn’t know the five strangers at our dining room table before today. In listening to their concerns and passion – similar to…
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Baby One More Time
I’m not a fan of time; that clock on the wall’s just a ticking time bomb. Today when a friend was an hour…
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Mirror Mirror
Forehead wrinkles wink non-stop at me in the mirror, but I don’t think they’re cute. The aging process has been doing its thing…
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A Sunny Day: A Writing Exercise
Get outside. Find a nice place to sit in a comfy lawn chair or grass, and take a minute with your surroundings. Really…
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Action, Action, We Want Action
Dave Matthews Band’s “Crush” swirls its chill, head-bopping vibe in the room. An email notification slides at the top right of my computer…
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Enough Already
Why does every post need to be perfect and award-winning worthy? I feel compelled to highlight everything I’ve written and delete it. I…
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What’s In A Name
I’m impressed. Inputting a few directives into the AI program everyone’s talking about spat out seven ideas for the name of my book.…
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A Doggonit Day
My thoughts are a log jam damming up the flow of my mind. In trying to simplify the complicated mess relationships can be,…
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Dew Duck Day
My brown duck came over and let me pet her; the dew of morning was fresh on her back, and the silky cool…
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Wilkus Wildheart
My D&D character is a crafty hobbit, and before tomorrow’s campaign, I had to write his backstory. After writing it, I didn’t have…
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Winny Wins
I can’t calm myself down. I miswrote calm just now, typing clam. Ha, that’s funny. The reason for my internal freak out is…
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Time Marches On
When it’s a blah day I don’t see value in sharing my experience. But writing in the third person (as though it were…
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A Frayed Knot
I feel compelled to choke back my verbal vomit, but I won’t. I hate today; it’s a giant turd. I wish I could…
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Down The Hatch
I love connecting with my writing as it helps me connect with myself. But right now, I’m feeling slightly disconnected, and I don’t…
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Night Moves
Instead of breathing life into my dreams, I kill them off. Like George R.R. Martin, I cut my favorites at the throat. Not…
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Scrub, Scrub, Scrub
They say to pump perfume spray into the air and gently brush your body into its mist. Not me. After triggering a drizzle,…
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Self-Care Stuff
Harsh feelings are always around, but it’s nice knowing I have tools in the ol’ bag to work cooperatively with them. I’m on…
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How to Deal Poker – Part 1
Dealing in various casinos for over a decade I know about whipping cards across a felt. For a writing exercise, I reminisced about…
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The Therapy Virgin
I saw a therapist for the first time when I was 25. I was a mess and didn’t know who to turn to,…
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Rain Rain Come Again
Winters snail slow pace is quickening, and soon we’ll all be peeking our cute wet noses out of hibernation. Before sun up, a…
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Somewhere With You
I make up weird stories in my head. Conspiratorial ones where interactions replay and rigid fingers thrust into my chest demanding, “WHY!?” No…
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Climbing A Wonderwall
In my life, rarely do I have a close call. I’m calculated. I see all outcomes. Ain’t nothing sneaking up on me. A…
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The Daily Page
She knows what she needs but hasn’t known if she can trust me. After months of working together, the missing pieces fall onto…
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Death Becomes Us
A bee-hive sensation swarms my chest, and I wish to swat it away. I’m scared I’m missing something in a young client’s eating…
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Stitchin’: A Poem
As if suspended in the air by a director’s “Cut!” are the balls you’ve been juggling. Far too many, you’re trailing; never once…
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Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers
You gotta love poorly translated board game instructions: “Let the baby guess you shoot the color in the checkerboard position, and deepens in…
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Key To The City
My husband listens to podcasts at 1.5x speed. I don’t like it. WhenthespacesbetweenwordsleaveIspeedup. Yet, as I reflect on my day, I realize I…
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A Buffalo’s Melody
Slow your pace, pump the brakes, and prepare for a smooth, bump-free landing. Scan the day and feel your way to a place…
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A Journey to Self-Love: A Letter
I am elevating a voice I hope reaches the tiptops of mountains and the sea’s murkiest depths. Love, Jaclynn I love you! ❤️…
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Have You Ever Seen The Rain
Instead of saying, “I miss him so much,” or “I’m so angry,” try seeing what happens when you change it to, “Something in…
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Hardly Harder
Damn taxes. Despite all the soul-sucking number crunching done by Dave and me at FreeTaxUSA, not only are we behind financially but also…
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Average Joe Schmoe
I’m tongue-tied; these dang dead-end thoughts are forcing me up against a wall. Also, I feel vulnerable; a shaky chest coupled with dagger…
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Mom’s Weekend
I’ve been primed for a night like tonight. Years ago, once a pig-tailed girl, I’d run down our graveled driveway, hop a ditch…
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Rug Rat Havoc
Two naked toddlers bounce on a pulled out futon while singing “I like to move it, move it,” the final dance number for…
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The Touch The Feel
Writing is a meditative space where I feel for words. It’s been this way ever since I was around age eight. One of…
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We Are The Champions
“Good luck,” they say, pedaling lightly backward, hand patting for the nob, it turns, “You’ll have your work cut out with this one.”…
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I See Dead People
For those of you not privy to the characteristics of seed swap attendees, think of a cross between Renaissance fairgoers, commune guitar pickers,…
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My Heart Will Go On
I’m not a fan of kids’ cartoons; they’re too mile-a-minute for my taste. After a bender on cocaine-laced meth, it’s as if the…
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Duck, Rooster!
“The circle, the circle of life.” To start this tale, I declare that nature is a toilet to us all: The bats and…
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Paying It Forward
Walking into the Italian restaurant for Evelyn’s want of “noodles” led to my holding her little hand as we followed the long swinging…
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I Got A Golden Ticket
“Check your lottery tickets! Someone in Washington state won the big lottery!” A Facebook friend’s post reminds me that the Willie Wonka golden…
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Subbing Support
I was precisely what the underappreciated hair-in-a-bun, visor-wearing sandwich artist needed. “You aren’t the problem.” I said, shaking my head, “That’s all them.”…
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Thank You For Being A Friend
I drop in here like the YouTube yoga instructor so gently reminds me each day in practice. I take it to mean releasing…
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Cart Bangers
I’m in love with one of my ducks, a chocolate milk colored one, that waggles her tail at me after I clean her…
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Boss Stage Healing
At recess in 5th, maybe 6th grade, I used to jump rope double-dutch. If you’ve never held your hands up to catch the…
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We Are Family
It’s a day when loose-leafed trash blusters about the neighborhood. A street light flashes like a red carpet to a rave but is…
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He Ain’t Heavy
I nag myself away from colorful curtains on Pinterest to write. About what I have yet to find, but like animals to the…
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Cluh Mot Toe
Hoping to coax the hiding vulnerability in myself out, I ask, “What do you want to write about?” I set aside my need…
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Intimacy’s Devilish Dance: A Poem
Shrouded with barbed wire, we trudge the land of the untouchable. Enter At Your Own Risk, the scalding caldrons seem to say, oozing…
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Butterfly In The Sky
How enamoring are butterflies; their vulnerable fluttering, expansive display of color and the jaw-dropping carwash change from dull walkers to acrobatic artists. Cinderella,…
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Mortality’s Knock
I’m building a Leggo block house with extra high walls to prevent monsters, and additional protection is “pew” guns that shoot thorns for…
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Singin’ Sweet Songs
“Good golly Miss Molly”, I say wincing my body into a bath of steamy water. I’d get thrown in jail for doing a…
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Woman Of Few Words
But I don’t want to. Write. Not tonight. A luxurious slumber from which you keep. Me at knifepoint I type. Good night. Love,…
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The Tale of The Teeniest Rubber Chicken
Eyes sunk deep in their sockets, I trudge myself to work. Last night’s D&D session 11 pm, followed by writing and yoga, led…
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No Mercy Mayhem
It’s the no-light part of the morning when I feel like a thief stealing and adding minutes to the clock. Porch, garage, and…
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A Majestic Murder
It’s a day for the birds, literally. After picking up a to-go iced coffee at the ‘bucks, guttural caws flanked me on every…
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Cat Attack
I am a messy, knotted ball of string after a client requested I mediate a conversation between them and their ex. I know…
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Dull To Dramatic: A Writing Exercise
This week’s writing exercise was to write one bland and one exciting story. I loved Houdini-ing words and laying the drama on thick…
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The King Tide Abides
Lionel Richie’s vinyl spins and spills sensually into the air. It’s too good, I think, swaying softly while allowing him to make love…
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Cheeky Pouch Belly
It’s king tide time here at the ocean, otherwise known as the highest projected tide of the year. In town, a tsunami pod…
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Saboteur de Sugar
Damn, Dave Crosby died. I wrote a post about Dave and I’s joy in seeing him live and listening to his albums at…
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I’m Late, I’m Late
It’s a feverish pitch running naked through a cornfield kind of day. One thing backed up by another until I got home –…
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Sweet Child O’ Mine
I’m a big fan of making life easier for future me. So much so that zippi-ty-do-da-daying into the unknown and bonding with discomfort…
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Sidle Up Partner
I snap off, a dead battery of the mind. With a scarecrow at the helm, all SOS alerts go unreturned. As an endless…
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Flexing Down Below
At the start of writing, the value of a piece is unknown and undefined. It’s as if a door knob turns and a…
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Potato Bug Head
You can’t unsee a rooster mounting a duck. From its hop up, to the beak tugging on the duck’s neck feathers, to the…
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Sunday Morning Coming Down
I wish I lived in a world where courtesy was dialed back to none, and a blunt, “Get away from me, you gross…
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Shock To the Heart
My excitement at being chosen out of ten others for the cutest Pottery Barn magazine rack on Buy Nothing means my attention was…
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Eff Off Fear
I center myself, take a breath, look around the room, and think, Is there anything I need? Music, I need music. So I…
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Every Dog Has Its Day
I wrote down three ideas for this post, then deleted them all. I don’t want to write about how you should have a…
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Existential Sock Talk
Holy cow, there are fantastic corner wooden plant stands on Amazon. I’m a fastidious perfectionist, so I’ll scour every review and photo of…
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Moth Testicles
I’m stalling. Or rather, cleaning, adjusting blinds, and turning up and down the heat. In 22 minutes, the virtual conversational Spanish class I…
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Houseplant Arousal
I’d love to write long-form; informative, entertaining, and creative pieces. Tapestries that interweave and intersect cleverly and stimulatingly. I want the reader to…
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Magnetic Zombie
I shoot up my hand but before the words touch the air, I’m shhhh’d. At the pulpit is the critic rambling and spitting…
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Struggling Orchid: A Poem
I deleted a post. I tried to delete you. Like a Jack in the Box, time winds a memory to pop. Out of…
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Learning To Fly
A dismembered wing of a mallard duck my Dad killed hunting housed in a plastic bag is what my second-grade self brought to…
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Scent Of A Woman
Out of concern about the partner of a client feeling ganged up on (this happened previously to them in couples therapy), I wonder…
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I Got A New Attitude
How do we change our have-to’s to want-to’s? I’m taking my resolutions slow and steady in the spirit of starting and ending 2023…
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Tiptoe Through The Tulips
During covid, seed-exchange programs popped up in communities to share resources. I only found out they existed when I read an article on…
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Happy New Year!
With Mr. Rogers-like exuberance, Dave stands and says, “What do we want to do today?!” Then, answering his question says, “Are we doing…
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Feeling Badly
At the hockey game, I felt compelled to write the quirks of the guy seated next to me. “Didn’t practice the power kills…
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Desert Dwellers
Three outdated satellite dishes sit on property underneath powerlines, trucks’ hoods are rusted and propped open, and there are a smattering of unworking…
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What’s Up, Duck?
I’m seated next to the most talkative person at the Kraken game. He’s the guy that gets four or five drinks in him…
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Water Over The Bridge
I rolled down the car window to let the security guard know the last name of the people’s whose home I’m visiting. Here…
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I’m A Loser Baby
At the end of the second 5-Minute Bluey story, inspiration for this post hit. I contemplated running for my laptop and spilling the…
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Get Out Of The Water!
Dear Jaclynn, Write now because this is your time. I prompt myself, but it doesn’t work. Nothing is worth writing about tonight. Nothing…
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Talking Shmalking
Like clockwork, apps and calendars gently remind us of our home maintenance tasks. They do for me, anyway. In the Northwest, that means…
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Merry Xmas Ya Filthy Animals
Hearing fuck repeatedly fly from the mouth of my 3-year-old as she struggled to put the Frozen II Monopoly lid box on made…
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Excuses, Excuses
I suck at texting. I type a sentence, question my intentions, re-write it or don’t, then in a fit of stress, say “eff…
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Going On 40 
I love your writing.
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Geez, Chuck. I’m blushing.
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abortion…it takes a very courageous woman to admit those two difficult decisions. I could not be any more proud of you other than I know your Mom would have been. we all make mistakes, and should’nt have to pay for them with our lives and futures. Evelyn is the luckiest, to have you as her Mom,someone who was ready to love her💖
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Thank you Kim. Your words mean a lot to me.
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