There's something about January that makes us all lose our minds a little bit. We convince ourselves that this is THE month. The fresh start. The clean slate. The moment when everything changes. So we create these elaborate plans. We set impossible standards. We try to overhaul our entire lives all at once while still, you know, living our actual lives. And then reality hits.

I apologize when I have to bother someone to get details about a personnel matter. Even when that matter is as important (or more important) to the person I'm "bothering" as it is to the employee involved. Even when it's literally part of their job to provide me that information. Then on the flip side, I apologize when I have to deliver news that isn't what someone wanted to hear. When a project didn't make the priority list. When the outcome of a situation isn't exactly wha

Let me be clear about something right up front. The number changing from 2025 to 2026 doesn't magically transform anything. January 1st is just another day. The sun will come up the same way it did on December 31st. You'll wake up as the same person with the same life and the same challenges. The calendar switching doesn't create a fresh start. YOU create the fresh start. The calendar just gives us the kick in the pants to do it.

It's the last Monday of the year, and if you're on social media at all, you've seen them. The posts about New Year's resolutions. The ambitious lists. The grand declarations of transformation.

As we head into this Christmas, my wish for you is simple: I hope you feel valued, because you are. I hope you feel proud of what you've accomplished this year, even the small things that nobody else noticed. I hope you get a moment of pure, uncomplicated happiness. I hope you feel the love of the people around you, and I hope you let it in. I hope you rest, really rest, without the weight of everything you think you should be doing. And I hope you know that the work yo

Here's the thing about December: the Christmas chaos at home is just one part of the equation. If you work in government like I do, you know that December brings its own special brand of workplace insanity.

That Sunday evening pit in your stomach about Monday? You're not alone. Here's the 3-step system that helped me eliminate Sunday night work anxiety for good. It's 7 PM on Sunday. You should be relaxing, maybe watching a movie or reading a book. Instead, you're mentally cataloging everything waiting for you Monday morning.

Perfectionism is killing your productivity and stressing your team. Here's why "excellent and done" beats "perfect and never finished" every time.

Just promoted to manager? Delegation is one of the hardest skills to learn. Here's your practical, step-by-step guide to delegating tasks without micromanaging or overwhelming your team.

Overwhelmed by holiday expectations? Here's how to actually enjoy time with family and friends without losing your mind, from someone who became the Bridezilla of Christmas Eve.

Constantly checking work email at night and weekends? You're not alone. Here's why this habit hurts your leadership effectiveness and 5 practical strategies to finally set healthy email boundaries.

Here's the thing about leadership: we accumulate baggage. Not just physical clutter on our desks (though let's be honest, that happens too), but mental and emotional weight that limits our effectiveness. Habits that made sense at one point but don't anymore. Beliefs about leadership that sound noble but actually hold us back.

But here's what I've been thinking about: gratitude in leadership isn't a once-a-year, around-the-table exercise. It's a daily practice that either strengthens your team or, when done poorly or not at all, slowly erodes the foundation you're trying to build. And before you roll your eyes thinking this is going to be some fluffy feel-good post about participation trophies and everyone getting a gold star, stick with me. Because I'm going to tell you about the time gratitude l

I wasn't setting my team up for success. I was holding everything so close that they couldn't function without me. And if I'm being truly honest, many years back I was probably a little too insecure in my role. There was some fear that went along with holding it all so close, fear that someone might take the ball and run with it, fear that they might not need me as much as I thought they did.

We all know social media isn't real life. Nobody posts pictures of their messy kitchen or their kid's meltdown in the grocery store or the fight they had with their spouse about whose turn it is to take out the trash. They post the vacation photos, the perfectly plated dinners, the smiling family pictures. But somehow, we forget that the same principle applies at work. You see other leaders in meetings where they're prepared and confident. You see them giving presentations

Here's what this all comes down to: we're all adults here. We all work with people we don't particularly like. We all have colleagues we'd rather not spend time with. We all have had conflicts and disagreements and personality clashes. But somehow, most of us manage to put on our big kid pants and act professionally anyway. We respond to emails from people who annoy us. We collaborate with people we'd never choose to hang out with. We're polite to people we'd cross the stree

Let me paint you a picture of my past self: Friday afternoon, 4:30 PM. My desk looks like a paper explosion. Fifteen browser tabs open. Unread emails stacking up. Post-it notes stuck to everything. My brain is already halfway to the weekend, but there's this nagging feeling in my gut that I'm forgetting something important.

Here's the thing: we've created this narrative about generational differences that's doing way more harm than good. We've bought into these sweeping generalizations, Boomers are rigid workaholics, Millennials are entitled, Gen Z can't focus, Gen X is… wait, does anyone ever talk about Gen X? The reality is so much more nuanced and honestly, so much more interesting.

You know that employee who used to be your go-to person? The one who'd volunteer for projects, stay late when needed, and bring energy to team meetings? Yeah, they're still showing up. They're still doing their job. But something's different. The spark is gone. They're doing exactly what's required and not one thing more. Welcome to the world of quiet quitting, and if you haven't noticed it on your team yet, you're either incredibly lucky or not paying close enough attention.

Difficult conversations are…well…difficult. There's no sugarcoating it. Whether you're addressing performance issues, navigating conflict between team members, or confronting your own manager about a concern, these conversations trigger every self-preservation instinct we have. Our palms sweat. Our hearts race. We mentally rehearse what we'll say at 2 AM, crafting the perfect words we'll probably forget the moment we sit down.