The time of my life...

Lying down in bed with a good book to read still doesn't mean that you are going to take an afternoon nap much as you'd like to in order to pass the time. So I got up again and made a pot of coffee to make sure I was really bright-eyed and bushytailed. Of course, then I had to find something to do, and what is more fun than writing a blog post, even though there may not be all that much to write about? It is true, though, that I am seldom at a loss for words, especially now that I have come out of that drug induced fog and I have thousands of conversations rolling around inside my head. I will have to get them down in an orderly fashion, although I feel like jumping from one subject to the other like a true renaissance woman.

 

Yes, I'd like to be as versatile as Michelangelo, but I doubt when the fog has completely lifted, I am going to turn out to be a genius quite like him. Not many people like him come around but, let's face it, he was born at the right time when a lot of things still had to be discovered. Yes, he did make wonderful sculptures and paintings. Well, I better move on to other aspects of myself.

 

I have no idea who lives behind all this fog I have been hiding in, so it is going to be as much of a surprise to me as it will be to you. I may end up staring in amazement at myself in the mirror. Already I feel much more quick witted as you may have noticed by my much improved sense of humor. I am almost as quick on my feet, although my mild physical disabilities do hamper me somewhat. I am not flitting around like a butterfly. When I wear my ankle boots that have the higher heels, I do fall off them and then feel embarrassed and look around me to see if anyone in the street was watching me. Usually nobody is, and that goes to show you that no one really gives a darn.

 

Yes, I do get my kicks when I walk Tyke, but at least it is not him that pulls me off my feet. I am quite capable of doing that all by myself. He is too busy marking his territory and eating things off the pavement that are of unknown origin. Yet, when he gets home he is still hungry and so is Gandhi, so I always feel like I am feeding two growing teenagers. I run out of food for them way before my next planned shopping trip and have to send the Exfactor to the store for emergency supplies. Is it any wonder that I go over budget? I probably spend less money on myself than I do on them, but I suppose that is proof of how much I like them.

 

Oh, but you must absolutely not get the idea that I don't eat well, because I spend lots of time thinking about what I am going to eat and how much I am going to enjoy it. And I never weigh myself. The bathroom scale stands there next to the shower stall being completely useless. I have decided that how much I weigh is absolutely no measure of how happy I am. As long as my clothes fit me and I like myself well enough, all is right with the world. The fact that I had to buy some bigger clothes takes nothing away from that statement. Some of the smaller clothes still fit too. Besides, I don't have to be anybody's sexy baby. I just have to be somebody I like well enough.