Tuesday, January 31, 2017

A Love Letter to my Doodlebug

My Dearest Piper Rinne,

Another fine year, yes?  Lots of good food, toys, and treats.  Too much boarding, but you should be on the "outside" for awhile.  Though you don't seem to mind it too much. Apparently you and some of your pals took advantage of a poorly secured gate and went for a swim.  Although, we'll never know what you did to get banned from Group Play, it's fine.  You can have solo play and extra walks.  Whatever, we're not going to board you so much this year.

We'll stay on top of fleas this summer, make sure your outside run has plenty of cedar chips and cold water.  More toys, to be sure!  Plenty of baths, maybe some trips - but work with us, Long Dog - we can't take you places if you act the fool.

I promise to you that this year, I want to get healthier so I can play harder with you for longer!

You help make us a good family, beasto - we're going to do what we can to give you a long, happy, healthy life.  But not if you escape.  You pull a Houdini, that's on you.  I mean, I get it -  nobody likes fences.  But we're protecting the world from you, and you from the world.  Dig me?  Of course you do!

Keep chasing your tail, tennis balls and squirrels.

Love you so very much!

Your Momma,


Monday, January 30, 2017

Your Wacky Neighbor

Inspired by a less than optimal visit to my primary care physician on Friday, I quit sugar over the weekend.  And by that, what I really mean is "sweets" - candy, ice cream, cookies, cake... the basics.

I know there's sugar in tomato soup, bread, fruit ,etc. I know that I need to also quit aspartame, but you will have to pry Coke Zero out of my cold, fat, dead hands.  I'm not giving that up.

That said, I won't be adding Crystal Lite to my water, because, I can manage unflavored H2O. 

I gave sugar one last kiss (off) with a special candy bar: 

It didn't taste like much, to be honest.  I need to remember that when things start looking grim...

I am so, so close to being done with my antibiotic, and that's a good thing - it has been a real fun experience.

I'm still not right from this whole shitshow.  I'm coughing, I'm congested, my headaches are not sudden or severe, but occasionally, I get a persistent dull ache.

I'm willing to admit I might be a little cranky.

Jim and I went to see "A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder" over the weekend.  A cute show.  Not heavily staged (like Wicked) but really sweet and musically interesting.  I really enjoyed it.
I wish I were a soprano.  Both the female roles in the show have lovely, operatic voices.  There's one man who plays seven or eight roles (male and female).  I actually could manage that role, since he's clearly a tenor, but...

Anyway.  I'm detoxing on sugar, toxing on Augmentin and I'm not much fun.

I'll try for something a little lighter in February.


Friday, January 27, 2017

Ready Normal People?

It's the weekend, and I couldn't be more ready.  Ok, to be fair, I started my weekend early.

I took the day off to do my annual doctor appointments - nothing new, to be honest.  Once again, my blood pressure was fine at my Primary Care office, then through the roof at the Lady Parts office an hour later.

No idea why.  But whatever, I'll keep an eye on it.

After the two appointments, I priced a faux forsythia wreath at Big Lots.

Then met Matt for lunch near his office.  Then, I did a hardcore, crazed shopping at the Aldi.  I love Aldi.

And then, finally, I took the dog to Washpaw.   It's a DIY Dog Wash place, and Piper needed a good scrubdown.  The bathwater was gray from her dirt. They finished her off with a nail trim and ear cleaning - that place is the bomb.

I washed all our bedding, made a big salad for dinner and now, I blog.

I'm going to be honest with you, peeps, my mojo is sagging.  I mean, so much of me sags these days, why not mojo?  I am not feeling especially creative.  Or inspired.  I mentioned to one of my doctors offhandedly that the current political climate was making me feel sick.  I think she thinks I was kidding.  I wasn't.

I keep thinking, you know, I'm reasonably funny - maybe I need to channel it somehow.  Clearly, not in the blog, because... well, fuuuuuuuck... everything I write is so labored these days.

Everything in my life feels so labored.

Well, I'm going to keep on trying, because I feel like it's in there - I'm just going to need a lantern and a pickaxe to find it.

It's fine. It's fine.  Fine, fine, fine.

It's not fine.  But you know what?   Hope springs eternal.  Like a forsythia wreath.

It will be fine.


Wednesday, January 25, 2017

A little song...

So today, Mary Tyler Moore died.

I grew up watching her on The Mary Tyler Moore show.  Now, the show ran for seven years, three of which I wasn't alive for.

But, I grew up in Atlanta where we had the WTBS - the Superstation - Channel 17!  And that was where I got my early education in the sitcoms of the 60s and 70s.  We watched plenty of Newhart, Mary Tyler Moore, Carol Burnett and so on in syndication.

Mary, Carol, Marcia Wallace, Suzanne Pleshette - they were paragons of what a modern woman was.  And what I wanted to be.  Especially the funny part. I knew I'd never be June Cleaver,  but I thought I could probably be Emily Newhart. Or Sue Ann Nivens.

Look, plenty of people have written, will write about MTM and what a positive influence she was on American women.  Better and in more depth than I can or will.

What I learned, although I didn't even realize it at the time, was that you could be a successful woman, have your own apartment, cool clothes, great job, kooky friends - and you didn't have to have a man.

Now, she also showed us via The Dick Van Dyke Show* that being married and a mother didn't suck, either.

Mary was the woman we all kind of wanted to be.

But I was a little more Phyllis/Rhoda.  And even then truthfully, I was more Brenda.  But hell, even Brenda became Marge Simpson, so, you know, it's all good.

She lived a long, successful life.  She had a lot of sadness, but she also did a lot of good.

And she has quite a legacy.

Instead of posting a clip from Chuckles The Clown's funeral, which seems to be the go to - I'll go a little more recent.  Still 21 years old, but -  Flirting With Disaster:

Find it, watch it.

I can hear her calling Ben Stiller's biological parents (the Schlichtings)

The SHIT Kings?!?

Find this movie and watch it.  If not for Mary, then for Ben Stiller, Alan Alda and the completely perfect and wonderous Lily Tomlin.

Lily, you better not die on me, dammit.


*I cannot hear the name Dick Van Dyke without auto-translating it as Penis Van Lesbian.  Because I'm 12.


Tuesday, January 24, 2017


To Whom it May Concern,

Fine, I get it.  This year is starting out to be one great big Nope Popsicle. 

I get that my body is trying to tell me something with these killer random headaches.

I get that the doctor isn't going to be happy about whatever that something is.

I get that my writing submissions aren't what some websites are looking for.

I get that my personality isn't for everyone.

I get that my house is a mess.

I get that I could fix my messy house easily.

I get that you found my name on a list of sales leads, but I don't have the authority to help you.

I get that you think I don't deserve the same cute clothes as people half my size.

I get that change is constant.

I get that even though change is constant, I don't have to like it.

I get that I'll never get an explanation as to why you've made the decisions you made.

I get that I need to let that shit go.

I get that you don't care about offering me decent customer service.

I get that you want to make me look bad to feel better about yourself.

I get that maybe I'm not as funny I think I am.

I get that maybe you're uncomfortable with my humor and that I am as funny as I think I am.

I get that we don't see eye to eye politically.

I get that even though we see eye to eye politically, we're at different levels of activism.

I get that my hair is going to be a source of struggle for the rest of my life.

I get that I'm being selfish.

I get that I'm not selfish enough.

I get that sometimes, getting bad news is just clearing the path for good news.

I get that sometimes, bad news is just exactly the shit sandwich it appears to be.

I get that just because you are served a shit sandwich doesn't mean you have to clean your plate.

I get that no matter what kind of money I make, I could always find a way to spend more.

I get that some days, every song on Pandora exists to irritate me.

I get that some days, every song on Pandora serves to act as my personal soundtrack.

I get that some day, I will look back on this post and laugh.

I get that today isn't that day.



Monday, January 23, 2017

Hair Today...

I decided to spend some serious money on my hair recently.

I went to a stylist who has been certified to work on curly hair.

That sounds like a pile of horseshit, I'm willing to agree.  But any of my curly compatriots will tell you a bad curly cut takes some time to overcome.

The big thing with curly hair is how you wash it, or rather, how you don't wash it.  Apparently, typical shampoos with sulfates strips all the moisture out of your hair.  So there's this "No Poo" movement where you "Co-Wash" your hair with a conditioning cleanser.  And then you put more conditioner on your hair and then you squeeze your hair dry with a cotton t-shirt. 

Because I'm so low maintenance, this is kind of a lot of work, and I'm not exactly nailing it, yet.

Also, these new products are hellaciously expensive and I'm used to buying cheap, sulfatey hair goo.

Anyway.  When I arrived at the salon, I had to fill out this questionnaire about my hair needs, concerns, whatever.

And in some blank I indicated that I am interested in embracing my natural curl and that I love my natural color. 

I honestly do.  Yes, I'm getting gray, but if you look at the people in my family, it's not exactly a bad look.  We have some good hair up in our family.

I'm actually going somewhere with this.

A lot of things in my life are kind of unsettled at the moment.  I'm getting a new (unknown) boss.  The political landscape is in upheaval.  My headache situation is new and scary.  I'm staring down the barrel of a lot of change.  But mostly, a whole lot of "wait and see".

So, it's time to embrace the gray.

In every sense.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Five, Twenty, Seven

Sometimes, I get in a bad mood.  Like, supremely bad.

This is where I am right now.  I'm just so sick and tired of being sick and tired.  I slept a ton this weekend. Not enough,  but still a lot.

The political climate is making me feel nauseous and suffocated. 

I'm feeling very stuck.

And I'm not really sure how to unstick myself.

Which, you know - I'll get there. 

And eventually, I'll be done with the Augmentin.  And my body will quit the excessive production of mucus.

With any luck, something will inspire me.  This time last year, I was in a pure, brutal funk, similar to this, and the ladder I used to climb up and out was this little thing called Hamilton.

The year before that, this is what helped me dig out of my funk.

I'm not sure what will inspire me this year.  But we're not getting another dog, I'm not going to find anything quite as compelling, musically.

So, you know - January funk.   It's real, and I'll work my way through it.


Saturday, January 21, 2017

Thoughts from a Stormy Saturday

1. I appreciate my mother's advice this morning that I should be writing, because it's something I'm good at. I reminded her I've been writing this blog for 8 years. So, there's that.

2. I'm not out marching today. I should probably feel bad about it, but instead I'm focusing on breathing through whichever nostril is more open at that moment.

3. I also need to conserve energy for entertaining some friends who will be in town later. You know what's a fun activity for when you can't breathe and don't want to protest? Honky Tonkin'!

4. When you can't afford a day at the spa, a meditation excercise pretending you're at the spa is not even a substitute.

5. Having imaginary arguments in your head is a good sign you need better hobbies.

6. If you are between therapy appointments, try crying in your car, or the shower.  Or quietly at your desk. But don't keep it all in for the next session. That hour needs to be used wisely.

7.  There are probably women on this planet who can pull off the whole Lula Roe legging/tunic look, but I look like a Mime College reject. That said, I always appreciate that people think that I have the ability to pull it off. So don't stop inviting me to your pop-up sales.

8.  While it's preferable to think that the rest of the world is a complete, screwed-up mess, at some point, you have to admit, the problem might be... you.


Friday, January 20, 2017

Knock, Knock

Thought I was going to have the punchline written for a long, rambling story I'm working on.  Turns out, the story isn't done rambling.

But when it is...


I promise.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Eight Seconds

One of the things I promised myself was that in 2017, I wasn't going to let things get to me like I have in the past*.

After all, if we have learned anything from years of therapy, Dr. Phil, Weight Watchers and inspirational magnets, you can't control situations, but you can control your reaction to them.

So this morning, I got word that my manager resigned.  For those who know me or play along at home, this particular manager lasted, what, two months? 

Just like the boss who resigned two months ago, this one is saying, "I wasn't looking - this opportunity fell in my lap".  I have to think that either that's bullshit, or I'm incredibly unfortunate.  I've never had a job just "fall in my lap".  And I'd like to think I have a reasonable amount of talent/skill/charisma/networking acumen.

But every job I've gotten, I've applied for, researched, put on a suit, practiced sample questions, given firm handshakes, and prayed to the Hiring Gods to get. And for every one I've gotten, there are dozens I didn't.  Including one where I was one of three final candidates and never got a call.  I still think about calling them now, nearly 20 years later to see if they've come to a decision.

I'm depressed because I feel very stuck.  I am now, at a decade in to my tenure at this company, going to have to adjust to a new manager who has his (or her, but let's be real, his) way of doing things.   And the thing is, I have no desire to say, "You know, I think I could take a stab at this".  And even if I did, I'm sure I'd get shut down immediately.

They're All Gonna Laugh At You!

So, basically, here we go again.  A new boss, to be named...eventually.  And some new things to learn and new things to teach.

One of my concerns, warranted or not, is that I'll be assigned to report to my best friend in the company, and that would be a bad, bad thing.  For me, anyway.   I'm sure he wouldn't be too thrilled with that either, but I'd woman up and be amazing. 

Look, I'm going to woman up and be amazing regardless.  But I'm sick.  I've been sick for 19 days, and I just started antibiotics that make you well by KILLING EVERYTHING INSIDE YOU, which makes you feel terrible, then eventually, better. 

And I am not sleeping well.  Or enough.  Today I got up an hour early because I forgot that I had an extra alarm set for LAST Thursday that I didn't need for today.

And I'm trying to eat better, but nothing tastes like anything, and you know, when you're on antibiotics, you have to think about your sad little digestive tract, and whatever.  And I can't drink while I take them.  Or take any illegal substances because, they're illegal and my company can test if they want to, and I'll be damned if I lose my job over a joint that I used to relax because my job is stressing me out.

All I know is, I'm kind of setting the table for Pity, party of one.

And that kind of feels like cake should be involved.  Or ice cream.

Love you, mean it.


*Guess what - things still get to me! 

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

A Tension Please

Last night, I was sitting there minding my own beeswax when I sneezed violently and was almost immediately hit with the most intense, sudden, throbbing headache I have ever experienced.  On a scale of 1-10, it was an 8.  I rarely go above a 7.  My mother, who is a nurse, basically drilled it into me that you're never a 10.  This has served me well.  Nurses take you more seriously if you don't start out at a 10 pain level.  Also, quick sidebar - whenever a nurse takes a medical history from me, she eyeballs me and asks if I'm a nurse.  I explain that I'm not, but that Mom is.  They say she trained me well because I always give good, accurate information - especially regarding medications and dosages.

But I digress.  I had this monster fucking headache that was making me break out in a cold sweat and question my mortality.

I literally thought to myself, "So this is how I die".

Within about three minutes, it was manageable, and I consulted Dr. Google, who made it seem really unlikely that I was in imminent danger of dying.  I took some meds, went to lie down.  Matt did some more research and said his second opinion was that I was also not in danger of dying.

This morning, I woke up from a stressful dream with the same screaming headache and so I decided to let a real doctor weigh in.  I went to my favorite Urgent Care center.  Favorite because nobody seems to know it exists but me, it's staffed with all former ER docs, and while every other one in the area opens at eight, they open at seven.  And no, I'm sure as hell not telling you which one.  Some secrets get kept, bitches.  Ok, ok - ask me nicely and I'll share.

Turns out, I have a sinus infection, to the surprise of NO ONE.  So he put me on Augmentin (the good shit), and recommended Sudafed and Flonase.  Another quick sidebar.  I sure as heck hope that all these docs are getting a kickback from the Flonase people because that shit's expensive.

I ended up telling the guy that I had been so afraid because of my family history. We talked a little about it, and he was very nice.  He thinks I should have this conversation with my Primary Care doc when I go in for my annual exam next week. Agreed.  She's already going to be pissed because I've gained back some of what I lost last year and my blood pressure isn't great.  So, might as well tell her I've been thinking a lot about my potential to stroke out.

Anyway, he called in the antibiotics and on my way in to the office, I picked up the Sudafed - which, by the way, thanks to asshole meth dealers everywhere for making it a big ordeal to by 24 little red pills. I also got some Excedrin Migraine.  Here's the deal, peeps - that's some good shit.  I took it 30 minutes ago, and I'm all, "What headache so scary I thought I was dying?"

Their tagline should be, "This shit is INSANE".

Yeah, I'm not dramatic AT. ALL.

Anyway, no real insight, I just thought you'd all be glad to know I'm not dead.  And/or dying.

Although, really, we're all dying, are we not?

But seriously.  It's just a sinus infection, we'll clear that up and get back to our business, yes?  Yes.


Monday, January 16, 2017

Cool, Cool...

It's Monday night.  We had a long weekend, thanks to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 

I needed the extra day for recovery, as it turned out.  I have a hellacious cold that was just about to go away, and then...BOOM!  I got on an airplane and I spent the weekend attempting to breathe out of my mouth without choking.  My nostrils were firmly glued shut.  I did, that said, learn to love Afrin.  I don't care if it rots my brain clear out, but the ability to breathe is worth it.

I don't have any more travel on the books - my first trip of the year is fast becoming my only trip of the year.  So far.

So, you know - I'm going to spend the time getting healthy, getting organized.  Getting HYDRATED.  Maybe head down to Atlanta for a Mom Visit.

And petting my puppy.

You know, all the important stuff.


Friday, January 13, 2017

Puppy Dog Tales

Four years ago today, I had to have Lola put down.  Frankly, it sucked.  Not just at the time, but for a long time after.  On the one year anniversary of her death, I wrote her a long letter, tied it to a balloon and released it in the sky.

It's been nearly two years (minus a few weeks) that we got Piper.

Our girls could not be more different.

Except that they are, were, and will be the loves of my life:


Sunday, January 8, 2017

Wherein I Make It About Me

About 15 years ago, David Cross had a bit in his routine where he talked about people who take on tragedies as though they were personal.  The example he gave was talking about someone working at the Las Vegas hotel New York, New York  on the day after 9/11.  I can't do it justice, but it was damn funny.

So even though it's funny, I'm about to do it in a big way.  This tragedy, this time... is personal.

I thought about this routine on Friday when I first read that a gunman had killed five people in the Fort Lauderdale, Florida Airport.  The way I found out is that a sorority sister of mine was reporting that she was there and safe.  And presumably terrified.

Here's the thing.  I travel.  I travel a lot.  And that could have been me.  It could have been her. It almost was.

There are so many angles to this story.  One, TSA isn't fool proof, two, maybe we shouldn't even allow guns in checked bags.  Or guns, OK - ammo, nope.  And maybe we shouldn't let people who have had their gun seized by police get that gun back.  And maybe we need to pay more attention to the mental health of the people who come home from protecting our country.

What I know is that five people who were just going about their own business on Friday died.

And while my thoughts and prayers are with their families, thoughts and prayers DON'T STOP BULLETS.

So, you know... I'm getting on a plane tomorrow.  And while I've stopped looking forward to travel in general, I want you to know this trip... I'm really worried about.

Although, because something JUST happened, maybe we'll be on heightened alert.

Maybe the trip I should worry about is four months away, or three years... or never.



Thursday, January 5, 2017

Glutton for Punishment

There are all kinds of garbagey foods that I love.  What made me think of this is that they're calling for possible inclement weather here in the Nashville area, and in prep for that, I needed to get some food in the house.  As you will.

So, I picked up the requisites - bread, milk, eggs.  And while that seems a little arbitrary, it's not.  Especially if I tell you my in-laws gave us three pounds of Benton's bacon for Christmas.  In which case, you'll have to admit that my purchases are spot on. 

I also got a few delicacies from my youth.   Chef Boyardee.  And...

The look of the can has not changed in over forty years.

Dinty Moore Beef Stew.  Look, I know it's akin to Alpo, full of sodium and fat, but it takes me back to a simpler time, when a snow day was a treat, not a hassle. 

But I refuse to apologize.  I love the stuff.

And while we're at it, I also like:

Libby's Corned Beef
Potted Meat
Deviled Ham
Wise Cheez Waffies
White Bread (Bimbo, Bunny, Wonderbread, Sunbeam - IDGAF!)
Uncrustables (those PBJ pockets found in the freezer section)
Bologna (though I really need to be all beef)
American Cheese
Boxed Mac and Cheese (prefer Velveeta, but I'm flexible)
Velveeta (or the Kroger brand equivalent)
Campbell's Chicken and Stars
Campbell's Meatball Alphabet Soup
Snack Cakes (Little Debbie is my first preference, but Hostess is fine)
Pudding Cups
Fruit Cocktail - with the red-dyed grape "cherry"
Hot Dogs (but like the bologna, all beef, please)
Canned Biscuits
Frozen Waffles
Apple Juice
Grape Juice
Cheese Puffs/Ball (curls in a pinch, but come on)
Tuna Casserole
Cafeterias in general - especially if they have jello cut into cubes
Carrot Raisin Salad (Chick-fil-A should never have dumped this from the menu)
Canned Asparagus
Fruit Roll Ups
Sugary Cereak (Cap'n Crunch, Lucky Charms and Golden Grahams for instance)

The thing is, I also love classy, healthy food.  Artisan Popsicles, Lobster Rolls, Charcuterie, Raw Oysters, Brussels sprouts, Filet Mignon, Lamb Chops in Lavender Sauce...

But when you're snowed in and it's cold, there's something really, really right about a can of greasy "beef" stew over a few hot canned biscuits straight from the oven.

I have limits though.  Instant Grits?  Shame on you.  Just, shame.


Wednesday, January 4, 2017


Here are some things I've been thinking about.

1.  Avocado toast is kind of a new thing.  Should I try it?  It is a waste of avocado?  A waste of toast?  Altogether disgusting or a taste sensation?  I should probably try it.

2.  Car drivers:  when you come to a pedestrian crossing and let someone pass, you're not DOING THEM A FAVOR.  You are sparing yourself having to clean blood off your car - after you are released from your vehicular manslaughter sentence.

3. Pedestrians:  If you are going to run, walk, ride a bike at night, get a metric ton of flashy lights and reflective tape.  Because if you come bounding out into the road like a ninja gazelle, I actually am doing you a favor in not hitting you. Assholes.

4.  I know more punchlines to jokes than the setups. Maybe I should learn some new jokes start to finish.

5. I love my gel nails for about 13 days, and on day 14, they have GOT TO GO.

Day 14

6.  I have been a registered voter for 24 years.  I've been called for Jury Duty ONCE.  Didn't even get to voir dire before I was released.  I realize I am jinxing myself.

7.  Jumping all over the Jeopardy board looking for Daily Doubles makes you an asshole.

8. I love Brussels sprouts. And greens.  And... I want my kitchen back.

9. I'm totally on board with aromatherapy, but I think using essential oils to treat illness is voodoo.  That said, I'm willing to try it to get rid of a mole that I hate.

10. I am thinking of giving myself a creative writing assignment for 2017.  Details to follow.

11.  I'm just angry that I didn't write this myself.


Sunday, January 1, 2017

You say you want a resolution? Redux.*

Happy 2017, y'all.

I spent NYE at a house party with friends.  Low-key, good conversation, finger foods.

I overate, and woke up with severe acid indigestion at 4AM.  Not to put too much description to it, but ultimately, I barfed.

As it turns out, that was the precursor to waking up later in the morning with a full blown case of whatever Matt has had for the past two weeks.  A cold with cough, sinus probs.  It is what it is, but what it is, is crappy.  I managed, in throwing up, to pull a neck muscle, because, of course.  And it's fine, I'm fine.  I just have a sinus headache,  can't turn my head very well, and I'm being extremely cautious about eating.

That said, it's New Year's Day, so... I had to get in my black-eyed peas and greens.  And since the kitchen is in upheaval from painting, I did what I had to do.  I went to Cracker Barrel.  That's not really a sacrifice.  I like Cracker Barrel.  I got us two dinners to go, and they were good.  I ate slowly, really tried to be mindful.  But the house is really paint-fumey, Piper was extremely interested in our dinners, and Matt is in the process of shopping for a new trash can for the kitchen.  So, you know, baby steps.

With the meal of greens (for wealth), peas (for luck), and cornbread (for gold) eaten, now the last thing I need to consider to get this year started is my New Year's Resolution.

This is, verbatim, what I posted to Facebook this morning:

One major resolution for the New Year that breaks out into lots of little micro-resolutions. And that is to be kinder... to myself. Don't worry, though. The more I'm squared away, the kinder I can be to you, too. Not you, specifically - the editorial you.

And what I  mean by that is this. I need to cut myself  a damn break when I screw up, which I am apt to do.

I read, earlier this year (then re-read the other day) a book by Jen Sincero called "You are a Badass".  In it, she recommends that you go easy on yourself when it comes to self-talk:

"Replace I'm a monster with I'm just a little bunny, working through my issues."

Highly Recommend.

So, I'm taking it to heart.  At 4AM, fresh out of a post-vomming shower, I was giving myself a lecture about getting my shit together, not overeating, getting healthy, and so on and so on.

But what good does that do?  I already felt like hot hammered garbage.  I was exhausted, clearly out of balance.  Why not just remind myself that I'm a little bunny working through my issues and try to get a little rest?

So, that's the plan.  Kindness and self-care.  This is the year.  I swear.  I really mean it. 

Happy New Year!

* I decided to review my blog to see what I had chosen as my resolutions in years past.  Turns out I used the same title "You say you want a resolution?" not once, but twice before.  In 2014 an 2015.  Classic Allison.