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When You Have to Be A Starbucks Hero

I deserve this flower crown. Because.
This is a little story about how I saved the world…er, Starbucks patrons…from an outlet hog. You’re welcome, everyone. 😂
Me: Excuse me, sir? Would you mind if I borrow that outlet for maybe 30 minutes? My computer is almost dead. *(he’s been using it for 3 hours, so I feel that’s fair to ask, and there’s none other nearby)*
Jerk Face Butthead: What outlet?
Me: The one right there with your phone charger (points at it, smiling nicely)
JFB: You don’t need to fucking tell me my phone is charging. I am fully aware.
Me: Oh. Okaaay. Didn’t realize this convo was going that direction. 🙄
JFB: You can’t use it. I’m busy and still only at 90%.
Me: Fine. Thank you for your time.
Kind Angel Lady Next to Him: My computer is fully charged, want to use my outlet?
Me: OMG, yes! Thank you! You’re so sweet!
JFB: BETTER MAKE SURE YOU DON’T TOUCH MINE.
Me:  🙄 *plugs in computer, careful to not touch his*
JFB: *get up to leave literally 30 seconds later(..the fuck, dude?)*
Me: Excuse me, sir?
JFB: *evil eyes* What the hell do you want now?
Me: You dropped your notebook. Here. *hands it to him* Have a really great day, and I truly hope you feel better. *smiles*
JFB: Thanks, but I’m fine.
Me: Oh? Really? I figured you must be in a lot of pain if you’re being so miserable to everyone around you. I guess it’s just your heart.
JFB: *storms off*
Kind Angel Lady: *laughing hysterically*
Starbucks Employee: He’s in here every day, and let’s just say, it’s about time. Kudos.
Me:  🤗
 
#sorrynotsorry #boybye #whyyougottabesomean #beingaheroallovertheplace #RobinsonRamblings

[This post was originally published here on Sarah’s Facebook page. Follow her on Facebook or on her page for more up to date posts!]
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9/11: The Students With Missing Parents

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All students with “missing parents” were called to the guidance counselor’s office. Every other student was dismissed to their parents, but school officials didn’t know who would be coming for us.
 
Our parents were in towers that weren’t there anymore.
 
Our parents were in towers that every classroom’s television had just shown us was crumbling to the ground–our loved ones inside.
 
When my little sister and I were finally taken home by a kind babysitter, we sat hand in hand on the edge of the cliff at the end of our street–a small stone wall we could perch on and look directly into Manhattan. We sat on that cliff in more ways than one, our eyes straining as if maybe we could catch a glimpse of our dad from miles away. Maybe he was okay. Maybe he wasn’t in the collapse we’d seen on tv.
 
Manhattan was covered by a huge mass of smoke, but the skyline was missing two very obvious buildings.
 
And two little girls were missing their father.
 
Hours passed, cell phones didn’t work, and it wasn’t until night fall that he stumbled through the door. Covered in a white ash, or soot, or I’m afraid to know what else, he was home and he was okay.
 
Everything was okay.
 
And then the news started to trickle in. Friends, neighbors, mothers, and fathers who weren’t going to make the long walk from Manhattan to New Jersey tonight. People I’d known my whole life, suddenly gone. Their kids–my friends–left to pick up the pieces.
 
It’s those kids and their families that weigh on my heart every year. It’s the absolute terror I felt all day waiting for my father to come home, or the ache I feel in my heart when I think of what he went through to return to us that I dwell on today.
 
And every year, I always say the same thing.
 
There will be wonderful stories of survival, sacrifice, and triumph today. Those stories are vital and needed and serve an important purpose. Embrace them. Praise them.
 
Americans are so brave.
 
There will be calls for change, for defending our country, for fighting back. Those spirits and courage are important, too. Support them. Hold them.
 
America is so strong.
 
Then there will be people like me who take this one day a year and we’re not strong. We sit quietly and remember how badly those losses still hurt. And that’s important, too.
 
Allow yourself to feel the hurt, reflect on it, and acknowledge its value. Then, tomorrow, return the pain to where it belongs, and continue on with our heads held high and our hearts open wide.
 
Tomorrow, we can be strong.
Today, we can be broken.
 
We can just be human.
And that’s okay.
 
#Sept11 #NYC #NeverForget
[This post was originally published on Sarah’s Facebook page here. It was shared over 570+ times with 1.2 likes and dozens of comments–what an honor to be able to reach so many people with this story. Thank you.]
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This One Is For The Little Guys

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LETS GET REAL, YALL.

I posted a status today asking the “little guys” to share about their books. To be honest, I was floored by the responses. My notifications blew up within minutes and I realized that while I may still feel like a little guy at heart, that’s not really the case anymore. There’s a lot of authors struggling, and that hurts my heart.
 
I remember the anxieties and pains from that period of time though, and I still feel them! So, I wanted to get real with you guys for a minute about what my career’s been like and what it’s taken to get there. Hopefully it will encourage other “little guys” to keep going, keep trying, keep writing.
 
There’s a reason why we do this, and there is a path to success but each of ours is different. If any other authors feel like posting in the comments about their journeys to help inspire, or vent, feel free! This is just one person’s experience, but it’s a different road for all of us. ❤️
 
MY BOOKS:
In 2013, I published my first book through self publishing at age 24.
In 2016, I now have 8 published, but 11 written.
Out of those, 7 are self-pubs and 3 are traditionally published (with more to come).
My dream was always to write for Random House, and I signed a contract for 6 books with Penguin Random House in 2014.
My next book comes out Oct 4 (self-pub), and Dec 13 (traditional).
It took writing 7 books before I was proud of my writing.
 
MY JOBS:
In 2012, I got my Masters and began working as a therapist in a sexual offender rehabilitation programs in a jail.
In 2013 and 2014, I worked full time but started writing, plus an additional separate part time job of writing resumes.
In 2015, I worked 2 part time jobs outside of writing.
In 2016, I work 1 part time job outside of writing, plus some freelance work and consulting. I also now fully support my household due to my partner’s job change.
 
MY TIME:
During all 4 years, I’ve averaged 60-80 hours of work per week.
I haven’t taken a vacation. I didn’t get a honeymoon. I have never taken a full weekend off. I normally work all 7 days a week.
I write at least 20,000 words a week minimum, and I do all my own marketing at night. I do not have an assistant.
I only go out with friends once a month, if that. I turn down events all the time and forget promises I make people regularly.
I don’t have kids yet, which helps with time, but I’ve had several miscarriages and am actively trying to adopt/get pregnant.
I have date nights, even if its just on the couch, because we need that time. When a friend needs me, I’m always there–work never comes first.
I spend half a day every week cooking and shopping for the rest of the week. My husband cleans the house because I just can’t even.
I watch television because it’s fun and I want to, and I don’t feel guilty if I’m doing something that isn’t work or writing.
I spend at least 15 minutes a day screaming and running in circles around my house with the dogs, playing. I call it my exercise.
I read at least 2-3 books a week.
I cry at least 2x a week about whether or not I’ll ever reach my dreams, or be able to afford…life.
MY INCOME:
In 2013 and 2014, I netted a profit loss on my books. I think it was by -$8k the first year, and -$3k the second year, but I don’t fully remember.
In 2015, I made +$8,000 profits from my books.
In 2016, I made +$8,000 in January alone, and while it’s always up and down throughout the year, by the end of the 2016, I’m projected to net a “normal” salary for my work.
In 2017, I hope to do 1.5x what I’m doing this year.
I still struggle and work on paying down a lot of debt, and put most of my book money back into my business. My shoes have holes in them and I wait for my birthday to come up until I beg a relative to buy me new shoes because that’s a “luxury” for me at the moment. I still give away hundreds of my books and buy other author’s books every week.
 

MY TOP TIPS:

1) Pick your goals and work toward it, no exceptions.
2) Be willing to put in the time. And a lot of it.
3) Unless you just want a hobby, treat this like a business.
4) Sleep. Get lots of sleep, or you’ll be less productive.
5) The best way to sell a book is write the next book.
 
There’s plenty more and I could go on and on, but this is just one author’s take on what life looks like when you work really hard and get one step closer to your goals. I’m nowhere near where I want to be yet, but one day I will be, and it will have made all the hard work worth it. There are tons of authors doing much more and much better than me, and that’s perfectly okay with me. We’re not competition, we’re peers.
 
But even if it never pays off, I love what I do. I love my job, and I love working hard, and that’s all that’s ever going to matter in the long run. I’ve surrounded myself with a great group of people, my agent, my publisher, other authors, my family, my friends, etc, who make me a better version of myself and I love every moment of it. This is going to be my lifetime career, and I’m going to make it successful–no exceptions.
 
So, don’t be discouraged if your book isn’t selling, or you’re struggling to reach more readers, or you’re new and overwhelmed. It’s not an easy road for any of us. We’re all just trying to figure it out.
 
Just keep writing.

❤️

Go check out some of these awesome books listed in the comments of my “Little Guys” Post here!

[This post was originally published on Sarah’s Facebook profile here. Please follow her there (or on her page) for the most up to date information. For book information, please subscribe to her newsletter here.]

Image Credit: http://www.specialtyansweringservice.net/14-words-every-business-owner-needs-know/

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When Your Dog Causes Full Scale Building Lockdown at Petsmart

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Apparently, the weekend has started early since I’ve already flashed someone my entire chest. At the vet. In the middle of Petsmart. Which lead to a full scale building lockdown.

I’ll explain.

I had to take Larry, my dog, to get his anal glands expressed this morning (as I have to do every week due to his constantly infected bumhole, which is both a physical thing and a metaphor for his personality). Larry gets so nervous when we go to the vet that he bounces straight up and down a foot in the air the entire time.

Have you ever met a Jack Russell Terrier? That’s all they do.
Bounce, bounce, bounce.

So as I’m talking to the vet at the front desk, Larry bounces up again and grabs the edge of my coat. Yanks it. I shoo him away. Stop being an asshole, Larry. He does it again. This time ripping the sleeve of my coat. Now I’m irritated and pull my hands out of his reach. Doctor laughs and says, oh that silly dog. I try to laugh, but I’m a bit mad at my ripped coat now.

Larry’s still bouncing. Up, down, up, down. Now he can’t yank on my coat sleeve anymore, so this time on his next bounce up, he bites the hem of the front of my shirt and brings it straight down to the ground with him.

In case you didn’t know, I’m a bit well endowed up top. If you yank down my shirt, those suckers come flying out of my top like they just escaped from Alcatraz. Suddenly the cold air is on my nips and the doctor is no longer laughing. I’m no longer laughing. I’m pretty sure I’ve died. Everything goes slow motion as I look down at my bouncing ta-tas outside my shirt, and Larry’s asshole face smiling up at me from the ground.

In my haste to cover myself, I drop the leash. I’ve got more important things to hold at the moment. But as I’m re-imprisoning the escaped convicts into my shirt, Larry seizes the opportunity to bolt for the door.

Now, here’s a fun fact.

Did you know when there is a loose pet in Petsmart, the store goes on lockdown? The front doors slam shut. A red light and siren go off. The PA system repeats “Loose Pet” until the alert is called off. Every single person in the store looks at you and knows you’ve done this.

So, Larry is recaptured.
The alarm is called off.
My dignity is gone.
His anal glands were expressed.
And I cried in the car.

#RobinsonRamblings for the win!
PS: It’s okay to laugh. I’m laughing. Now.

[This post was originally published on Sarah’s Facebook page here. Follow her there for more up to date info!]

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