More of The Same, Blah Blah...

Donald Trump is making very swift decisions and I can't stop watching, like a train wreck.  I've been hovering over the vast negativity of Facebook until my shoulders ached, and today I did myself a favor and installed a governor on my own phone so I can't look at Facebook constantly. Yes, I put childlocks on myself!

I am doing amazingly well, considering how shitty things have been. I can't decide whether to write that my family IS disintegrating,  or that my family HAS disintegrated. I haven't heard anything from Nevie since she went back to school, so about three weeks, although the school let me know that they took Nevie and 74 others to the Women's March in DC. Sequoia told me yesterday that we are not on the same side, that she is on her OWN side, which cut me like a knife to the kidney, and Bob...well, Bob has always been very independent. What I built over fifteen years is totally gone. I walked through Barnes and Noble, and nearly dissolved into tears in the children's craft kit section. My girls were not much interested in toys, but they LOVED craft kits, and our apartment was full to the rafters with glue, glitter, stickers, and cut pieces of paper. At one time, it was in my pockets, in the kitchen knife drawer, inside my socks...everywhere. Now I have door slams and silence. I feel bereft, and I feel embarrassed about how bereft I feel. "Get over it, Mom! We aren't eight anymore!" It is the worst breakup ever. I'm not over it. My ultra-educated friends are all getting pregnant now, so excited! and I feel like a newspaper full of dog shit about the whole motherhood thing.

I've said this same thing about six times already, I know I'm redundant. It still sucks.

Child Support is off again, and pears are in the end of year dead zone, and the artist I have been working with ghosted me for six weeks. I hit a deer, breaking the front grill of my car, and Baby Kay had some weird thing happen to her shoulder, giving me a $330 vet bill. Bob has had a sore throat and cough for a solid month, and the weather has been this exaggerated Tim Burton dark, foggy misery.

Taking all that into consideration, I am NOT depressed. My hashimoto's symptoms are almost totally gone, thank you to all things holy. Throw on some Toots and The Maytals and suck it up. Maybe I just need a change of scene. Maybe I ought to follow Bob's lead, and take an artists' retreat up in the mountains, since nothing much is happening here. I feel like the Adirondacks is pretty much the same as Rednecktopia, only colder, but it is a free house, and apparently no one gives a shit if I am here. Just me and paint paint paint.

Maybe I will.

What I would like is 8 hours of sex, followed by an elegant meal, a room full of flowers, some cool people to laugh with, and a swim in the ocean. And a new tattoo. And a motorcycle ride.

love and light,
your friend,
Hil