When I was in fourth grade I asked the girl I liked to sign my yearbook. I stood two feet from her while she wrote for what seemed like ages. When she handed the book back I couldn't wait to see what she had written. I was looking for a sign... something... anything to tell me she liked me too. I examined the book for several minutes. She had written simply, "You're weird" and signed her name.
She was right.
I'm weird. I'm excited. I'm passionate. I lose track of time. I lose track of people. I'm a terrible manager. I'm a brilliant strategist. I make mistakes... quickly... and frequently. I'm an idea person. I'm a right now person. I struggle. I execute. I write. I'm 52% introverted. I love conversations. I cry when I shouldn't and don't when I should. I forget. I let things slide. I give birth. I inspire. I get inspired. I struggle. I design. I love. I dream. I'm happy and frustrated and excited at the same time. Life's too short. Life's too long. And I have crazy hair. Just sign my damn yearbook!
