I double booked myself last week. I hate when that happens.

I signed up for Ladies Bingo Night, which is a fundraiser for our high school seniors. I also agreed to attend a social justice meeting at the synagogue. Fortunately, both were happening in the same building. Unfortunately, the timing was so close together that I wasn’t able to stay for the majority of the agenda.

On my way upstairs to play bingo, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. Why did I bother going to that meeting in the first place? What must they think of me? Should I quit the committee altogether since my first impression was not a stellar one?

And then, I took a deep breath and stopped my thoughts from snowballing further. I’m passionate about the issues of the day, and I want the social justice committee to be my outlet for getting involved. They address topics such as antisemitism, gun control, voting rights, climate change and so much more. These are my people, and I’ve been searching for an opportunity to stand up and do more for the greater good.

But, our group of my friends can rarely get together anymore. All of our lives are crazy busy. We work. We run our kids around. We prepare dinner, do the laundry and make sure everything at home is running like clockwork. We deserve a break, and I was looking forward to spending time with them. So, I chose to stop feeling guilty.

Confidence isn’t knowing other people like you. It’s knowing you’ll be fine if they don’t.

For most of my life, I worried endlessly about what people thought of me. This lack of confidence in my decisions carried over from work relationships to personal and familial ones. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve been to therapy to address this, and now consider myself a “reformed people pleaser.” As I get older, I realize that being kind to others doesn’t mean that you need to bend over backward and contort yourself into what they want from you. I must stay true to myself.

When I saw the above quote today, it reminded me to be authentic every day. Not some of the time. ALL OF THE TIME.

And yes, I will go back for another social justice meeting. I’ve already put important dates on my calendar so I can support their ongoing programs. I have lots to contribute, and if I don’t show up, who would lose out? Not them, but me. BINGO!

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I don’t know how I could write about anything else tonight besides the terrible loss today of Kobe Bryant. I admit I know very little about basketball. But I know his name. I know his smile. I know his presence, and I feel this loss along with everyone else.

As a wife and mother, I can’t imagine what his loved ones must be going through.

As someone who lives not far from where Kobe grew up, Philadelphia mourns with the rest of the world on the loss of a great son.

I want to turn the tv off, but I can’t. I need to hear the tributes and learn about his legendary life on and off the court as a player, a leader, a family man and an ambassador of goodwill.

In this time of chaos and corruption, the world could use more Kobe Bryants. Nothing less will do.

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Every morning at 7:20 am, I start my commute to work. On paper, it should take no longer than 30 minutes door to door. In reality, the traffic, school and Septa buses and construction areas bump that time up to 45-50 minutes. I have a lot of time on my hands, so I try to make the best of it.

Thankfully, I have a lot of options for my listening pleasure, but local morning radio is truly my last resort. The local stations consist of either talk radio or the music my children enjoy. There is also a lot of gimmicks, contests, and my least favorite thing, prank phone calls on unsuspecting people. My kids have joked about doing this to me, but I’m hoping they know better. The only exception I make for local radio is the traffic report as I get closer to work. One accident on Lincoln Drive could easily add an extra 45 minutes to my ride.

With all of the options XM radio has to offer, there are some days where traffic is not a burden. The soundtrack of my childhood can be found on multiple stations. This month, the Billy Joel channel creates a concert-like atmosphere in my car. I am not above belting out the lyrics to My Life or performing a piano solo on my steering wheel to Angry Young Man. I’m sure the other commuters get a kick out of my highly choreographed, driver-side dance routines.

And thanks to my daughter setting up Apple CarPlay for me, I may never leave my car. My ears are wide open to the plethora of podcasts that are now available to me. I can only truly appreciate the wisdom of Mignon Fogarty’s Grammar Girl and Jonathan Small’s Write About Now in the privacy of my SUV. I can’t exactly blast Magic Lessons by Elizabeth Gilbert from the Alexa in the house without someone raising an eyebrow.

When I pull into my parking space, I breathe a heavy sigh because the fun is now over. I must go and do all the responsible things. But then I smile, knowing I’ll be back for an encore on the drive home.

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