A Beautiful Disaster

Do you ever wonder why you keep banging your head against the same wall, over and over again?

Why when we are doing something we know is just plain stupid, we just can't bring ourselves to stop? Why? After all, the outcome stays the same right? Bang, ow, bang, ow. Is it the possibility that maybe, just maybe, it will somehow be different? That the outcome will magically change and that it will all work out in the end?

Or are we just a glutton for punishment? Is enough ever really enough?

For some people I think the level of tolerance for this is not high. They will stop the banging because it hurts too much. Hit it once and lesson learned. But for some of us, it isn't the pain of continuing that causes us to change....

maybe it's because it just feels so good when we stop.....

Madness

I don't consider my self a hypochondriac. In fact I tend to lean away from drugs (even aspirin) preferring to let nature take it's course. I have never bee diagnosed with anything that has been reduced to a catchy acronym. Because, well, crazy isn't an abbreviation for anything... unless:

Compulsive
Reactive
Anxious
Zealous
Yonkers

There is a methadone to my madness...

It must be an oxycontin?

But today, I am feeling like I need some good drugs. And I can't quite together anything that is wrong with me, really. I am starting to wonder if maybe there might not be something to this drug thing. Like maybe I could control myself a little better if I were medicated. The trick to an 'O Happy Day.... could it be a Happy Pill? The problem is I am TERRIBLE at remembering to take drugs regularly. So, I can do good for awhile and then I forget. I'm pretty sure the swing of an on and again off again drug habit might be worse, than say my normal witchy self. Dare I ask the Alaskan what he thinks?

Nah... I prefer to keep him on his toes. He never knows what he's gonna get, and I kind of like it that way (part of the crazy tendencies). Bwaa Ha Ha.

Another Moment

"I wrote the story myself: It's about a girl who lost her reputation and never missed it." --Mae West

Sometimes I imagine writing a story about myself and the places I've been. It might make some good reading. Some funny, some sappy, mostly just a lot of irony, bad timing and fumbles through a life of perfect imperfections. I think I have convinced myself that if I did write it all down that somehow the patterns would be more obvious or that this journey would make a little more sense. Who knows. The truth is, once upon a time I had a reputation: PTO Mom, with a house two kids, a dog and a mini van..... and then, well, I lost it. Yes, I dropped my basket, so to speak. Kind went soul searching. Somewhere along the way I lost my reputation, and I have to say, I don't really miss it.

So without further ado, here's some of my story. Or as I have often titled it in my head: How I Got Here From There...