Howdy, Y’all

Howdy, y’all???

HOWDY, Y’ALL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Is that really how I started this? Why is that the very first thing that popped into my head? I’ve never said ‘howdy y’all’ in my entire life.

Not that there’s anything wrong with the intro – It’s a great greeting! If you say howdy y’all, you’re probably a very nice cowboy, a southern bell, or Rachel Hollis. It’s just… not me (unless Rach is reading this, then I take everything back and am sticking with my original intro and howdy y’all is totally me).

Husband, friends, anyone I interact with on a regular basis – please never speak of this again. This is a sacred place, okay. I’m nervous, give me a break. What happens on the internet, stays on the internet – that’s the rule, right?

Okay, now that we got the awkwardness out of the way, please let me try again.

Hey, how you doin’? (a little better, maybe?)…

My name is Caysi-Rae, but you can call me Caysi or Cays if you’re in a hurry. Caysi-Rae is reserved for a few select friends and formal occasions, mostly because it just sounds weird.

I’m 20-something years old for a few more months and am in the midst of my quarter-life crisis. I’m married to an amazing man and together we parent three purrrfect fur-children. I work in finance by day and am a daydreamer by night.

I ended up here because – WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, 2020? What part of the universe royally screwed up and gave us 20 years of fuckery in 12 months? Whoever it was, I hope they were fired.

This year, I have spent a lot of this time by myself. Not as much time as others, but for me, it was a lot. I worked from home for a good chunk of it and my husband is a delivery driver so he’s been delivering all of your stupid Amazon packages on overdrive.

The time I have spent with my thoughts has dug me into a deep, dark hole that has manifested into a quarter-life crisis. For a lot of reasons, I haven’t been able to spend a lot of my life figuring out what I really like or enjoy or want.

In solitude, for the first time in my life, I was able to embark on a path of self-discovery and now I’m stuck in the rut of it. How does one even figure out what they like?

Thus, we are here. I love writing, I do know that. I’ve started several blogs in my day – all of which I have passionately slaved over for a few short weeks, given up on or gotten too busy for, and then moved on. Only to start or revisit said blog years later.

Each time, there is a common theme – complete, paralyzing self-doubt that no one would care what I had to say. This time is going to be different – this time, I’m writing for me. To hold myself accountable to the things I want to do, to the things I want to share, and to all the self-discovery I have left.

Also, it has to be because I paid for this domain name.

If you decide to embark on this with me, I can’t promise I’ll change your life, inspire you to discover yourself, or unlock the secrets of the universe – after all, I am just a girl laying in her underwear drinking hard cider.

What I can promise you is several perfectly placed cuss words, real-life stories, summaries of my growth, poetry, a few good recipes, and some absurdly cute cat pictures.

Come hang out with me, or not – either way, I’m excited to document this next journey even though I’m not entirely sure of what it will be.

Okay byeee,
Cays

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