Reading good fiction is much more fun than writing bad fiction, but criticizing others’ work doesn’t help me write more (or better).
Making an appointment with the dentist is easier now than scheduling a check-up with my primary care doctor. The last visit with her started a cascade of events that led to my breasts getting chopped off.
The older I get, the later in the season that I start playing Christmas music.
I would have been a very neurotic mother. Our omega dog, Lucy, had some teeth removed. We cried together driving home. She was in physical pain. I was in mental anguish hearing her cries.
The closer I get to goal weight, the farther away it seems. I think my body is screaming “maintenance – soon.”
I cannot escape my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) by living in one of the sunniest cities in America. The > 350 days of sunshine just delays the onset and the severity.
After so many years of not wearing nail polish because of work, I don’t care if amethyst shellac makes my hands look old. It’s fun and less frustrating than trying on clothes.
I am very thankful for my amazing family and bountiful life, but the holidays are harder after a loved one dies. Missing you mucho, Mom.