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So THAT's where you're
hiding the candy.. |
Again. My newest non-resolution. Stop explaining. Just be.
My days are nuttier than usual. Busier than usual. Mostly I'm spinning this one around in a chair 'til she's "Bizzy!" as only a three-year-old can hilariously proclaim, gently fighting with Beans (age 11) about the battles he's "not" fighting in video games when I walk around the corner and hear him declare "victory" over his enemies. Can't he just learn to meditate?
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Learning to "watch"
in the doctor's office. Fun times. |
Or relentlessly checking the "watched" spot on my back. Watch it? I can't SEE it! So, I've decided not to "watch" it. I told Dr.Derm that SHE should be the one watching, not me. I will drive myself and the whole Blogosphere crazy if I watch.
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You see it, right?
|
Maybe I should take a picture of it backwards in the mirror and let YOU watch it. Oh, I crack myself up.All I know is that when I go back in March to see if all this "watching" has produced any crazy results, I shall declare ('cause I'm a Queen) that I'm done with the eye and body contortion routine. Just take it off. Please. Now. "These take yeeeeaaarrrsss to develop into a problem," she said, "Don't worry."Then. Why. Are. We. Watching???
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Bree "watching" flower roots
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She knows how to get to the bottom of things.
Which brings me to my latest sad and silly malady.
I've been ghosted. Ghosted! Me??!
Who would ghost a Queen?
It started out so lovely. Five-hour phone conversations. Morning texts. Goodnight emails. Mutual commonalities and laughter. Then New Year's happened...er....or didn't happen. And I realized that the more I talked to him about my own personal goals and aspirations the less interested he seemed to be in understanding that independent streak in moi. He could have just said what I suspected...that he wanted to be joined at the hip. I can't even FIND my hips.
Instead. Ghosted.
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