Seems like my stomach feels about me the way I feel about The Shire management tonight. I should be tucked between the flannels with a cat on each side. The cats are there, I'm not.
That's fine. I've got the boys live at the Royal Albert Hall in my headphones. It's good stress relief. I breathe and silently sing along with Greg, which takes some lung power, and that calms me down. Once more through "Pictures" and I'll be chilled. I can't do the sit quietly and breathe thing. I'm a Viking.
Wait. Time to restart the boys. I should get some AlkaSeltzer. Hold the phone.
Well that was nasty. My SIL used to drink AlkaSeltzer instead of soda in the summer. Nuts, I tell ya. Maybe that'll quell the monster in my stomach. Gross, though.
My greatniece is graduating a year early in the top 25%, with many credits to spare. That's my girl. They're being fleeced on the accroutrements. I never heard of these things- announcements, thank you cards, name cards? WTH is all this paraphernalia? What a waste of trees! Oh, and school lunch is 5 bucks a day and you have an account!? We had bologna or PB sandwiches from home and bought a milk. Even in HS, you paid the buck to the nun and she handed you your lunch. Or you brought it, which was my curse through school. People came to school with these elaborate Mom's lunches when I had a freezer burned dry bologna sandwich. But it made me realize that there actually were parents who cared in the world. It didn't have to be the way I knew family life to be. And it started my personal uprising.
Anyway, Strider's been asleep for hours, the Wonderdog and cats are all snoring softly. I'm gonna go breathe-non-sing to "Pictures" and then go grab my book, Gaiman's Neverwhere, and try sleeping again..
Tomorrow's gotta be better, right?
The Door Is Ajar.
5 days ago