The Daft, Demented, and Delirious

Waking up from the longest, darkest night, having been locked away in a storm Wading into the water it melts my soul and once again I am reborn Not caring where my heart has been, sand cascades against my skin For the first time I see the glint of the sun and wonder where it's been A restless mind is hushed enough for nerves to collect and play A culmination of picture shows of memories and awareness once cast away The sweet, saline air wisps gently along my face Strands of hair swirl and dance and stir perspective into place It matters not that I was lost at sea, the waves lapping hungrily at my side For now I stand, feet steadfast and anchored to the shore and have returned to tell the tale of the ride.

Why is it that during times of epic weather, such as wild fires, blizzards, rain/flooding, and hurricanes people flock to the grocery store like a pack of psychotic, A.D.D, patients on Crystal meth who've escaped from the asylum? Why does everyone go completely insane and buy every loaf of bread and every carton of milk in the entire store? Why all the unnecessary pandemonium and mayhem? Are you going to fashion yourself a shelter out of whole grain 100 % stone ground wheat bread? Are you going to bathe yourself in 2% milk to prevent the flames of hell from burning you and your family alive? Obviously if you're going out to get items for survival your shopping list should look more like this: 1. Flares & Matches/lighter ( flame thrower if at all possible ) 2. flash lights & a miners hat with a head lamp 3. bottled Water 4. Non-perishable food items ( canned goods ) 5. proper foot wear ( no stilettos please ) 6. Guns & AMO ( knives lots and lots of knives ) 7. anti...

I was bad yesterday. Real freaking naughty. "Please elaborate.", you say. I had a doughnut and iced coffee for lunch followed by a snack of funnel cake dippers from Burger King. PMS is that you? Can you please knock it the hell off I'm trying not to be a fatty fat kid here! Why is it that every month when good old Aunt Flow comes around I turn into a grease grubbing sugar fiend, demon from hell? It's like all my self control and will power evaporate in a salty sweet cloud of snacks followed only by a chocolate-y chaser! Ok so you're going to tell me that science will allow for organ transplants and cancer treatments but there is nothing out there to effectively clear up the colony of blemishes that has recently taken up residency on my chin? There is no magic pill to restore my mood or my will to exist? I must be a bloated, mad, cow for the next 5 to 7 days every 28 days????? This just isn't fair! All I have as a women to look forward to in my feminine futur...

So it's day 7 of my recovery from Thyroid surgery. Which is sort of why I started this blog in the first place. Resting and recovery are good things in moderation but also very, very, boring; minus the Copious amounts of pain meds and Ben & Jerry's. I am also convinced that my pain meds give me nasty, sex dreams about my surgeon, whom I might add is about 30 years older than me! Gross. I feel so dirty. The worst part is he probably saw all my naughty bits and my fat, dimpled, ass tattoo! I'm so glad I was asleep for that. I think I have successfully watched ever single episode of "Snapped" and "Roseanne". I'm pretty sure I know now how to commit the perfect crime of properly murdering my spouse, should the need to do so ever arise. Just kidding, just kidding. It is amazing how many husbands and wives poison and/or elaborately plan out murderous schemes for their significant others. Makes me wonder is divorce really that bad? Too expensive? Not sa...