Live and learn

Let’s start this off with a great big “I’m still alive!” Yay! I’m sure there were people questioning it since I basically dropped off the face of the planet after saying I was going to do a writing challenge. Needless to say, I didn’t do the writing challenge and life got a little too complicated for me to blab it all out here. The big “D” has officially been official for awhile now. I’m still dealing with that and probably will be for, oh, I don’t know, years. What can I say — some wounds run deep.

This post, however, isn’t about the big “D”. It’s actually not even directly about either of the two big Ds that have recently entered my life “Divorce” and “Dating.” It’s about the big “S”. Breathe, people, I’m talking about sickness, not sex. I mean, let’s be sensible, my grandparents read this blog.

Back to the point, on Monday I woke up feeling like death warmed over. I had zero voice and was coughing up what can only be described as something extremely nasty.

Obviously, my grandparents reading doesn't stop the occasional f-bomb dropping.

Obviously, my grandparents reading doesn’t stop the occasional f-bomb dropping.

I could barely move on Monday and was only a bit better yesterday. I did manage to drag myself into work to be told to go right back on home yesterday. Today, however, I’m feeling about 5,000 times better (though still not well) and am back in my “sober” state of mind. Due to this, I’ve had time to really reflect on my sickness and how it pushes me far past my normal levels of crazy straight into “batshitcrazywithalunaticontheside.” Whatever do I mean? Well…

1. When I am sick, I latch on to attention like I’m a Kardashian…and mourn the lack of it like a death.

Answer: 1. Sad.

Answer: 1. Sad.

This is what I think is a new development for me. I’ve been sick multiple times throughout my life and haven’t noticed that I’ve been all “please talk to me” and “I may be behaving like a crazy stalker chick” in any way. Today, however, I’ve noticed it hardcore. I’ve been more needy and whiny and over-the-top than usual (sorry to all the friends who have interacted with me the past few days).

2. I watch way too much Sex and the City.



As a working girl (and not “that” type of working girl), I had zero idea that there’s a Sex and the City marathon on basically every day for hours on end. This was a bit of knowledge I probably could have lived happily without. However, when you’re laying on the couch high as a kite off cold medicine, you watch what you can. For two days, I watched this show and on both of those two days, I cried. I’m not talking a little bit either. I’m talking sobbing hysterically, then having coughing fits, then going back to sobbing. A word to the wise: If you are sick, or sad, or having a less than “I kick ass bitches” day, do not watch hours of this show. Spoiler: Carrie ends up with a guy who has screwed her over a billion times and continues to do so throughout their lives. It doesn’t matter, though, because he’s the love of her life and love conquers all.

Everyone, join me in saying “F That.

3. I pick my life apart and make myself feel even worse.


Okay, maybe the last two were really leading up to this point. When I’m not sick, I stay pretty busy. I really try to live each day in a happy way and then move on to the next one. When I’m sick, though, I’ve got all kinds of spare time to sit around and over think every element of my life. Am I wasting my time? Am I missing my chance at happiness? Am I putting too much stock into risky investments? Do these jeans make my ass look fat?? OMGISMYASSGETTINGFATAGAIN??

Whew. If you can’t tell, those types of thoughts can push a girl right on over the edge and into a carton of Ben & Jerry’s. Thankfully, I’ve got some good friends who know how to talk my crazy self down.

1. Friends. 2. Vodka. 3. Chaka Khan.

1. Friends. 2. Vodka. 3. Chaka Khan.

Now, on the upswing of the illness, I can feel my crazy levels coming back down to normal. I’m back to realizing that my life is too fabulous to let utterly un-fabulous thoughts ruin even a single day. Maybe I needed a couple of days of wallowing in self-pity to serve as a reminder of just that fact.

So, if anyone reading this is feeling less than fabulous and having the sort of day that I had for the past few, let that shit go and remember..


Because you totally are.



This is a continuation of me participating in an event — The CGG August Write Your Face off. Writing prompts were provided by Brittany.

If beauty didn’t matter, I would…

Before I got to this prompt, a few others had written on the subject. (They skipped around in the order. Oh the sweet freedom they must feel to not be compelled to follow a list!) There were things pointed out like cutting (or shaving off) hair, never wearing make up again, going around in only comfy clothes and such. Though these thoughts made me smile, I realized that even if beauty didn’t matter, I would still wear my make up and certain clothes, even if they’re not as comfy as my pajamas. Why? Because I do what I do for me. I like the way I look minus make up but I also like the way I look with make up on. I like how put together I can look wearing a certain outfit that I just can’t pull off in my elephant print pajamas. So, if beauty didn’t matter, what would I do? Continue reading