Sunday, December 13, 2015

is 8 am too early to hit the rum today?

I won't go too deeply into details about my PityParty yesterday.  But there were clowns and rum.  And balloons and tissues.  And glitter and Imitrex.  And funny hats and trash novels.  And popcorn and Kitten (who barely left my side).  And biscotti.  From my ex's BFF.  He shipped me some homemade biscotti for Christmas.  Which was very considerate and delicious.  I didn't eat the whole box.  Yet.  The worst part of my PityParty was that I was there.  I tried to get me to leave several times.  No dice. 

I've pretty much eschewed human contact.  Well that, and humans have eschewed my contact.  I went almost 24 hours with no word from anyone.  Which is odd.  Several of my siblings and friends knew I was in the throes of a migraine.  No one checked on me past the initial, hey feel better.  I'm sure they thought they were giving me peace and quiet.  If they thought at all.  Probably they're all wrapped up in their own Vietnam.  Not many people can make it through this time of year without a meltdown or crisis of some sort.  Quit being so selfish, Wendy.  Other people have problems, too.

The migraine came back.  It wasn't as bad this time.  But the meltdown was.  If I cry alone in the woods, do I still need to hold back the wracking sobs?  Asking for a friend.  Ho Lee Fuk.  I'm ready to wake up tomorrow as someone else.  Because I'm not happy when I'm unhappy.  I'm much happier being happy.

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