Remember when I told you I wasn't going to be afraid of Christmas? That I wasn't going to get stressed out about money and mailing cards and entertaining? I was being for real.
Maybe it's my pills, maybe it's the sex dream I had last night.
Maybe it's because it's 45 degrees and sunny and one of my babies is at school while the other one naps.
Maybe I'm just a girl, maybe I'm getting stronger, getting meaner, getting over myself.
But, I feel kind of like I have everything I need.
Nobody can say shit to me.
I felt kind of wobbly for a few days after decreasing my dose. I felt dizzy and had weird rushes of something where my hair all stood on end. I noticed that I woke up at night, thinking. I started taking the long way home in the evening so that I could daydream about being brave.
I am proud of myself. My muscles are sore in all the right ways. I am feeling fine.
There is a plastic flower on the windowsill next to me when I'm writing. She dances when sunlight hits her. I know it's a stupid kind of thing to say, but I've grown to love that little flower. She used to wiggle all day like nobody's business, from morning until dark. It hasn't been sunny for weeks, but she's still going on, as best as she can with what she's got to work with.
That's me singing and then saying, "What? Oh, taping the flower..."