This post brought to you by Ambien, your friend and mine, the drug that can put down a buffalo but doesn’t dare look cross eyed at my special branded version of mental illness. Depressed? Let’s spend as much time as there are hours in a day thinking bout all the ways that’s fucked up. Manic? Awesome! Don’t let Ambien get in the way; there are far too many projects on the list for tonight.
Of note: As of tonight, nothing on the to do list has been related to actual housework.
“It feels so weird” I said to my husband tonight. “I’m not having fun out there busting my ass in the yard. The plants are pretty but doing the work means nothing. It’s not like I say to myself-fuck it, I’m going to do this super awesome yard project and leave the house in shambles. It’s a compulsion, the yard work. I know that house will still be there when I come inside, and it haunts me.”ed
—–This post never made it into the tubes, and now I feel like I must update and say that today was the first day that I’ve enjoyed being in the yard. Nothing like giving words to something to make it go away.
The fish pond is amazing. Fishless at the moment but incredible just the same.