I have just reread a bunch of my blog posts and the further back in time they go, the more I think I must have been full of bullshit when I wrote them, although I really like the ones I wrote recently. I suppose a writer will always be her own worst critic, so I am not going to break my head about it, but accept that these older blog posts are a reflection of my state of mind and circumstances at that time. I also must think that I get wiser and smarter all the time and that must be a good thing. Apparently I am making progress, but no doubt I will feel that what I write now is a lot of nonsense in another three months from now.
This is how I entered the new year, by rereading old blog posts, but now I am done with that and I am starting with a clean slate and will optimistically, but without the least hint of mania, write about this moment which has its own merits in that it is amazingly peaceful after the god-awful barrage of fireworks we had at midnight and which made Tyke cower under the covers with me. I partly slept through it and dreamed of big and little generals waging war with multiple surprise attacks and a variety of arms. I think even the cavalry was called in by the sound of the thundering hoofs. Thank goodness we are relieved of that again for another year.
In a misguided attempt to see if I could do without my anti-inflammatory medication, I didn't take it last night, but this morning the fingers of my right hand are badly swollen up and stiff. That was a short-lived experiment and I just took that capsule and will see how fast it works. Sometimes you need a reminder why you take a certain kind of medicine and usually find out there is a reason for it. The rheumatologist certainly was wrong when she claimed that an anti-inflammatory medication would not help fibromyalgia much. That goes to show you that professionals don't know everything.
I can't say that I am overexcited about this new year yet, but maybe it is too early in the morning to be. I have to get a good grip on the day first. I suppose I expected to be magically cured of all that ails me, but those are the expectations of a wishful thinker, although I do admit to have that tendency. When I was a kid I wanted to be a character in a cartoon and live in a little house in a hollow tree and never have a worry in the world. I guess I still do to some extend.