Oh, gosh, I have drafted such serious and interesting blog posts, y’all! …and yet, I’m not the least bit interested in posting them today.
Today was therapy day.
Which, all in all was okay. I’m okay. I’ve made “really amazing progress” over the last year, to quote my therapist. Intellectually, I know she’s right.
But here’s the thing: you don’t get points for trying. You don’t get points for surviving, or becoming “a success” (which means what? exactly?). You don’t get points because there are no points to get — I, more than anyone, wish there were such points. I’d use them to buy myself a villa in Catalonia and staff it with gorgeous, strong-handed masseurs.
Alas.
Therapy is good at reminding me that this whole project, this reality known as my life, is ongoing in fits and starts. Some years are stunningly boring and uneventful; some years fulfill the curse of “may you live in interesting times.” Never know which until you’re coming out the other side.
Instead I’d rather wallow in floof (my dog, Keely) and schmoop (light hearted fanfics). Because sometimes when there is a lot of work to do, what you need to do FIRST is relax, unwind, and get a good night’s sleep.
Floofing!