The Ying and the Yang: Ambition vs Relaxation

Every day, I feel the push and pull of complacence versus trying to achieve something greater on my own.  The pull of ambition is continuing to achieve my greater goals of finishing my GRE, expanding my mortgage business, starting a few of my very own business ideas, and being stringent with a workout routine. The push I feel is between just relaxing, working out, and just enjoying Chicago life. The life I choose is one of ambition and driving to achieve my dreams.

The poem talks about that push and pull, and that tension I constantly feel.  Also, below is a black and white dress showing that push and pull! I would love if you scroll all the way down and comment. (The last line of my poem is inspired by the Netflix show Girl Boss! Totally watch it!) Thanks much!

I feel grown
With no time to slow down.
Got my desires stuck in the 20's;
My body stuck close to 30.
Reality got me busy;
Ambition won't let me stop.
Won't let me stop
Failure keeps me going
Past my natural desire
But is it better to keep going
And growing
And making the stress prospering
My head aching to get that dream I'm making happen going
Or is it time to live a life of happiness?
Calm and simple and relaxing,
Where's the balance,
Where's the happiness,
What to do
Not having regrets keeps me going
Tell me now what to do?

Now I've heard you,
It's true, and
I've still choosen the life
Of ambition.
I won't stop,
Can't stop,

I'll always be a girl boss.

Here's a link to the dress below: https://goo.gl/qqgEVI

Seasons Changing!

I hope you all had a great Easter! I loved the weather this weekend. I can't believe we hit 80 degree..  It was amazing! These season changes are why I love the Midwest so much.  For this reason, I've decided to share my second post as a poem about seasons changing. I also posted a super cute outfit that works for this spring/summer weather that I wore on my trip to Nashville. Enjoy! :)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       The grass is draped with curtains of white snow.                                                                                                     Its folds are hills and valleys, nature's cloth.                                                                                                             Its languid laces are tall reeds in rows.                                                                                                                     The wrinkles are the rough patches, ice's troth.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              Very virgin, vibrant, velvet petals                                                                                                                              Start to part from the cocoon's wool and youth.                                                                                                      The cotton grows, soft and never settles.                                                                                                                The rapid, righteous, rushed rain helps its growth.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Lands are lined with smooth satin daisy beds.                                                                                                        Like long columns of steadfast stone soldiers,                                                                                                        They fall from duty, heroic hard heads.                                                                                                                    They lose the very pigments, their small threads.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           The silk roses bow down to the old grass.                                                                                                               The roses fade in the large snow mass.

Here's a link to the cold shoulder dress I love below for spring and summer here

Here's a link to the cold shoulder dress here.