Let’s be honest — my parents weren’t the only ones raising me.
TV did a lot of heavy lifting.
Music shaped my emotions.
Snacks kept me alive.
And the internet absolutely influenced my personality.
MTV taught me sarcasm.
Sitcoms taught me timing.
Music taught me how to feel big things quietly.
And boredom taught me how to entertain myself.
I learned independence early because we were expected to figure things out. No constant check-ins. No tracking apps. Just “be home when the streetlights come on.”
Looking back, it explains a lot.
Tomorrow’s prompt: The first time I realized adults were just wingin’ it.
The first thing I ever did on the internet wasn’t productive, educational, or age-appropriate. It was curiosity unleashed with zero adult supervision.
Chat rooms.
AIM.
Usernames that made me feel cooler than I was.
Away messages that were basically emotional landmines.
We didn’t scroll endlessly — we waited. We didn’t multitask — the computer couldn’t handle it and neither could we. Conversations felt intentional because you had to work for them.
The internet felt like a secret world. You logged on, explored, and logged off. It didn’t follow you everywhere. It didn’t live in your pocket. It didn’t know everything about you.
That early internet taught me how to communicate, how to observe people, how to read tone without visuals. It was messy, chaotic, and formative as hell.
Tomorrow’s prompt: Things that raised me besides my parents.
Some mornings you wake up already tired of a day that hasn’t even started yet.
Your body hurts. Your brain is loud. Your patience is nonexistent. And the idea of “doing your best” feels like a personal attack.
This is your reminder that showing up is still an achievement.
We’ve been fed this idea that if we’re not thriving, we’re failing. That if we’re not motivated, glowing, productive, and grateful, then something must be wrong with us. But real life doesn’t work like that — and neither do real people.
Some days, the win is simply not quitting.
Today’s affirmation isn’t about hustle or healing. It’s about endurance.
Today, I affirm this:
I do not need to be inspired to be effective.
I do not need to be energetic to be worthy.
I do not need to pretend I’m okay to keep moving forward.
I am allowed to move through the day in survival mode if that’s what today requires.
Showing up looks different every day. Sometimes it’s big progress. Sometimes it’s quiet persistence. Sometimes it’s doing the bare minimum because the bare minimum is all you’ve got.
And that still counts.
I release the guilt of not doing “enough.”
I release the pressure to outperform myself.
I release the lie that rest or struggle means failure.
I honor the version of me that got out of bed anyway.
My first computer showed up in my life sometime in the 90s, when everything was beige, heavy, and loud for absolutely no reason.
It wasn’t sleek.
It wasn’t portable.
It definitely wasn’t fast.
It was a giant beige box that took up half the desk, sounded like it was struggling to breathe, and took a full five business days to boot up. You didn’t just “turn it on.” You committed to it.
This thing ran on Windows that looked like it was built with Microsoft Paint and blind optimism. The monitor was a deep, soul-sucking tube that could absolutely crush a foot if dropped. The keyboard was loud. The mouse had a literal rubber ball inside it that had to be cleaned or it would just… stop cooperating out of spite.
But at the time?
That computer was everything.
This was the era of dial-up internet, where connecting online meant you had to ask permission from the rest of the house first.
“DON’T PICK UP THE PHONE.”
“ARE YOU USING THE INTERNET?”
“GET OFF, I NEED TO MAKE A CALL.”
That screeching dial-up sound is permanently burned into my brain. It sounded like robots fighting, and somehow that noise meant you were about to access the entire world. Slowly. Painfully. One image loading line by line.
But when it finally connected? You felt powerful.
I used that computer to explore the early internet like a feral raccoon in a dumpster. AOL chat rooms. Instant Messenger. Making my username something aggressively cool and slightly embarrassing. Away messages that were basically public diary entries.
You didn’t just scroll — you waited.
You didn’t just download — you planned.
You didn’t just multitask — because you literally couldn’t.
If someone sent you a photo, you watched it load pixel by pixel, hoping it wasn’t going to freeze at 98% and ruin your whole night.
Games were basic but addictive.
Homework was typed, printed, and prayed over.
Music had to be downloaded one song at a time, and half the time it wasn’t even the right song.
And yet… that computer gave me something huge.
It gave me curiosity.
It gave me independence.
It gave me the first taste of creating, exploring, connecting, and figuring things out on my own.
I didn’t know it then, but that clunky, slow, beige monster was teaching me patience, problem-solving, and how to troubleshoot when shit didn’t work — which, honestly, feels very on brand for adulthood.
Looking back now, with everything fast, wireless, touch-screen, and instant, it’s wild to think about how much effort it took just to exist online back then. But maybe that’s why it mattered more. You didn’t mindlessly scroll. You intentionally logged on.
That first computer wasn’t pretty.
It wasn’t convenient.
But it opened a door.
And in a weird way, it feels fitting that my love for creating, writing, building things, and figuring stuff out started on a machine that required patience, resilience, and a little bit of chaos.
Some people have a neat craft room, labeled bins, matching fonts, and a calm creative process.
I am not those people.
I craft feral.
That means ideas hit at midnight, caffeine is involved, projects start before others finish, and half the time I’m winging it with confidence and vibes alone. And honestly? That’s where the magic happens.
The Myth of the “Put-Together” Maker
Somewhere along the way, the internet decided creatives had to be:
perfectly organized endlessly patient aesthetically neutral calm and methodical
Hard pass.
Real creativity doesn’t come from spotless desks and soft playlists. It comes from chaos, trial-and-error, half-finished mockups, and saying “screw it, let’s try this” at least once a day.
Most of my favorite designs started as:
a random thought a sarcastic phrase a mood or pure caffeine-fueled spite
And somehow… they worked.
Feral Crafting Is Still Crafting
Just because it’s messy doesn’t mean it isn’t intentional.
Feral crafting looks like:
testing colors that “shouldn’t” go together breaking design “rules” making things bold instead of safe choosing personality over perfection
Not every project needs to be timeless. Some things are meant to be loud, funny, unhinged, and a little bit chaotic. Those are usually the ones people connect with the most.
Creativity Doesn’t Need Permission
You don’t need:
fancy equipment expensive software a perfectly curated brand aesthetic or anyone’s approval
You need:
an idea a willingness to try and the confidence to hit save instead of delete
Some of my best sellers came from projects I almost talked myself out of because they felt “too much.”
Turns out, “too much” is kind of the point.
Chaos Is a Creative Tool
Some days creativity looks like focus and flow.
Other days it looks like:
three coffees deep tabs open everywhere designs layered on top of designs and chaos winning
Both count.
You don’t have to wait until you feel inspired, organized, or ready. Start messy. Adjust later. Most people never start at all — and that’s the real problem.
Final Thoughts From the Feral Side
If you’re crafting while tired, caffeinated, overstimulated, and still showing up — you’re doing it right.
Fox Fuel is a sugar-free, high-energy drink mix designed for people who are running on caffeine, chaos, and pure determination. No MLM pitches. No fake “wellness” fluff. Just bold flavor and a clean energy kick that actually shows up.
If you’re tired of chalky powders, syrupy canned drinks, or energy crashes that leave you worse than when you started, you’re in the right place.
What Are Fox Fuel Loaded Waters?
Fox Fuel is a single-serve powdered energy water you mix with cold water. One packet = instant attitude adjustment.
Each serving delivers:
140–200mg of caffeine (depending on the blend) Zero sugar Fast-mix flavor with no grit A cleaner, smoother energy boost
Think of it as the love child of hydration and motivation — but with a feral streak.
Why Fox Fuel Hits Different
There are a lot of “energy drinks” out there. Most of them fall into one of two categories:
Way too sweet Way too sketchy
Fox Fuel sits in its own lane.
✔ Sugar-Free (Actually Sugar-Free)
No sneaky syrups. No crash-and-burn vibes. Just energy without the regret.
✔ No MLM Nonsense
Fox Fuel is independently made and sold, not tied to any pyramid schemes or awkward “hey girl” messages in your DMs.
✔ Built for Real Life
Fox Fuel was created for:
Busy moms Small business owners Night shifters Gym goers People who are simply ✨tired✨
If you’ve ever thought “I need caffeine but I also need to hydrate,” this was made for you.
How to Use Fox Fuel
Using Fox Fuel is stupid simple:
Pour 1 packet into cold water Shake or stir Drink responsibly (or ferally — your call)
Pro tip: Start with half a packet if you’re sensitive to caffeine. Fox Fuel doesn’t play.
When to Drink Fox Fuel
Fox Fuel fits into whatever chaos you’re managing:
Fox Fuel flavors aren’t boring, basic, or pretending to be spa water. They’re bold, punchy, and designed to actually taste good without being syrupy or fake.
Whether you’re grabbing a sampler or stocking up on your favorites, there’s a blend that matches your mood — from “barely functional” to “full feral.”
Final Thoughts: Stay Hydrated, Stay Feral
Fox Fuel Loaded Waters aren’t here to fix your life.
They’re here to fuel it.
If you’re looking for a sugar-free energy drink alternative that actually works, mixes fast, and doesn’t come with weird strings attached — Fox Fuel might just be your new obsession.
👉 Drink the water. Embrace the chaos. Fuel the feral.
Rocktober Fest has officially wrapped — and while everyone saw the glow tent, the merch, the madness… they didn’t see the behind-the-scenes circus it took to get there. Let me paint it for you clearly: yes, I was prepping hoodies and tumblers like a one-woman factory, but I was also freezing in my own living room at 6AM, rearranging furniture just to get the pellet stove going before my fingers turned to icicles.
Because fall in Maine doesn’t gently arrive. It kicks the door in wearing flannel and says, “Survive if you dare.”
Pre-Fest Prep: Chaos, Caffeine, and Cold Floors
People imagine event prep is cute — packing boxes, labeling totes, sipping lattes. Let me correct that gently:
Event prep = stepping over hoodie piles, reheating the same cup of coffee three times, and screaming “Where’s my tape gun?!” into the void while simultaneously feeding the dog and printing logos.
Meanwhile, the house? Arctic. My morning routine wasn’t coffee — it was rearranging the entire living room so the pellet stove wouldn’t set the curtains on fire. Priorities were simple:
Don’t freeze. Don’t melt the curtains. Get these damn hoodies done.
The Glow Tent: My Feral Fever Dream Come to Life
And then… it happened. Rocktober Fest. The glow tent lit up like a neon fever dream — blacklights, glowing tumblers, fluorescent tees. It wasn’t a booth. It was an experience.
Kids lost their minds. Grown adults turned feral. People walked in and said my favorite word of the weekend:
“WOAH.”
That’s when I knew: every frozen morning, every late night, every frantic supply run — it was worth it.
The Aftermath: Exhausted, Frostbitten & Full-Hearted
By the end, I was running on festival fries and sheer adrenaline. But nothing beats seeing people love what you create — chaos fingerprints and all. Rocktober Fest reminded me that this business isn’t just about products. It’s about connection, conversation, and creating magic in parking lots and fairgrounds.
Even if I return home to a crooked couch and pellet ash on my socks — my heart is full.
What’s Next? Buckle Up. The Feral Season Is Just Beginning.
If you think Rocktober Fest was wild, wait until you see what’s coming:
Holiday Drops 🎄 Wicked, festive, and absolutely feral Black Friday Insanity 🖤 Deals that require a helmet New Apparel & Gift Items 🎁 For the bold, the sassy & the unapologetic
So keep your eyes open, your coffee hot, and your pellet stove primed — because The Feral Fox Co. isn’t slowing down.
To everyone who stopped by, supported, shopped, or just stepped into the glow — thank you.
You warmed a cold, chaotic, hoodie-printing heart.
Tumblers and Trash Talk 