There is currently an immeasurable number of thoughts going through my brain at any given moment as of late. Like, a Googolplex of ’em. And, I’m tired. Exhausted. I am trying everything from finding #gladitude (the smallest of pleasurable things you’d otherwise not have noticed) to talking, to desperately trying to redefine my “self-care” practices as what once worked, may no longer. My nerves are shot. Just the sound of the neighbour’s kids thumping up and down their stairs next door makes me want to stab my own ears with a spork. The dog licking. The kids chewing. All of…
It’s totally a word. Because, reasons. Here I sit, finally at my laptop, writing on a blog (I just typed “blag” because it’s been One Of Those Days) that turns SEVEN YEARS OLD today! Facebook reminded me of of something I’d posted seven years ago (I think it was that I’d joined Facebook) and I remembered it was end of March and “hey-didn’t-I-start-my-blog-around-this-time” went through my mind powers. Indeed. Seven years ago today I’d started Lupus Interrupted with a hope to help friends and family understand Lupus and all of its dastardly ills. Seven? Honestly? It doesn’t feel right. I…
“Superpower Sunday! If you had a superpower – what would it be? How would you use it?” This was supposed to be easy. Why isn’t this easy?!?!? Mind reading? Hell no. Because I don’t carry the weight of the world’s problems personally at ALL. *shifty eyes* Superhuman strength? Dude. For what? Flame On! Um, insurance liability? No thank you. Super elasticity? *cringe* With my luck I’d get an arm stuck in a revolving door and get…nope. Flying? Don’t care. Nowhere to go. Invisibility? Yeah, because I want to feel even MORE invisible with an invisible disease. Hulk Smash? Now, that…
oooOOOOooooo did I just use a cuss in a blog post title? Fucking right I did. I’ve been unquestionably absent from posting for what seems like EONS…and I’m ready to delve back into writing about the going’s on of my made-for-tv-movie kind’o’life. 2016 is a big bag of smashed assholes. True story. But…the journey continues. “But…you’re in remission! Isn’t that a great thing?” Well, HELLS YEAH, baby!!! Even got my septum pierced in a celebratory *middle fingers salute* to everything Lupus. Or, maybe some kind of mid-life crisis thing. Whichever. Wish it’d been a car, though. 😉 Do you know…
I think everyone has them. A TSN Turning Point. I’m currently gearing up for a part-time, online, program at our college, and I’m pretty stoked at my goal-setting and bat-shit crazy endeavour. Thing is, it comes with a heavy ”remembering.” It’s Frosh Week around the city…most cities, likely. I missed my Frosh Week…and I missed it because I was preoccupied with me being required to have my mother committed to the psychiatric ward of the local hospital. Let’s talk about mental health. Let’s talk about mental health as it pertains to a woman currently struggling with the less-than-stellar on a…
Nope. Not in the actual activity…we’re talking all things ink… Tattoo. A week or so ago…maybe a couple of weeks? Time flies when you’re having fun, right? RIGHT?!?!? I had posted an article about the currently trending “semi-colon” tattoo and it’s significance. Project Semicolon “I would so totally do this!” I’d posted. So. I did. Thankfully, my dear friend, Tracy, knew a person. We went to see her person. I walked out with yet another story on my portable canvas. [enter full circle, stage left] But, wait! There’s more! This year is a hard year in the sense…
Liar, liar…pants and unmentionables on fire…………… Boy, depression is an asshat. Been working through the throes of the Ugly these past few weeks. This week has been insanity. Daycare kids are dropping like flies to strep throat. 10 hour days (yes, I’m saying it again…) are just dropping my pain threshold levels to nil. One of the nights this past week, I silently crept up to my room to just lay there an cry. I don’t need a pity party…not pulling a “Call the Waaaaaaaaaaa-mbulance”…but holy fuckerdoodles, friends…the pain was unbearable. Nothing ever reduces your feeling of a loss of…
Alternate title for this post should really be: “When the dog bites When the bee stings When I’m feeling sad I simply remember my favorite things And then I don’t feel sooooooooooooooooooo baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.” But that would be kind of too long for Twitter and I don’t yet have any bit.ly or owl.ly thingie yet. Which then reminds me that I used to…but now I can’t feckin’ remember what the hell it was or where to go. Which then brings me back to my alternate post title. What a week. It’s only Tuesday. I have a hurt in my heart not…
October and I are no longer BFFs. Just sayin’. This month has been riddled with appointments (think of a tommygun loaded with dry-erase markers having a get-go on your calendar) and of those plethora of “rememberings” that keep your brain up for hours and hours on consecutive nights because, frankly, who else is going to do the remembering of said rememberings??? (o.O) Yesterday I was relieved in a way to have read Wil Wheaton’s posting about how sometimes you just have “MMMMMARRAAAHHH” kind of days and I can sure-as-shit tell you that, as of late, I’ve been having “MMMMMARRAAAHHH” kind…
…So, I’ve always been a proponent of “Life ain’t all purple painted ponies pooping butterflies jacked up on SugarSmacks,” right? So, it should come as no surprise that occasionally (only so, mind you) I may have less-than-stellar days. I make no apologies for this, as I verily believe that I take/make/create enough measures in my life to be able to warrant a brief reprieve from all that is puppies and kittens and tribbles… BUT: What happens when there is so much…so very, very much…that it threatens one’s desire to be…well…all “heroic” and shit? A mentor? An inspiration?? I readily admit…