I don't know, y'all. There's a whole lot of ugh in my life right now, including (but not limited to! NEVER limited!):
* My SI joint is still a dick, although it's improving, thank goodness.
* I am getting a fresh cold, and am very bloaty, which...well, I'm trying to think positive and tell myself I'm just coming down with a virus and very, very hormonal (yes, THAT is me thinking positive these days) but I'm worried it's going to turn into another sinus/ear debacle, which I can't afford on any level.
* Hotter and I had to have A Big Talk, of the "What The Hell, Dude, No SERIOUSLY Have You Lost Your Mind" variety. It went well, which was a relief (I'd been avoiding this particular talk for fear of coming off like some kind of asshole, but then I realized that bottling it all up until I snapped and beat him to death wouldn't really be very non-assholy either). I think he know Some Things Had To Change. We're not, like, On The Rocks or anything. But the thing with Hotter and me is, even though we've had the occasional wobble, I still put him on a pedestal as The Light At The End Of My Twenties, Saver Of My Sanity and am therefore unreasonably disappointed when he effs up, as well all tend to do (yes, even yours truly, which is probably a good thing as I just turned thirty-three and that was not a very good year for the LAST perfect Jew, or so rumor has it).
* My ex-husband. Oh my word, y'all, I can't even. Really, I can't. He is largely to blame for this recent autoimmune bullshit; stress triggers that stuff in me in the very worst way and it is no great coincidence in my mind that while I was mostly bed-bound and on copious time-release morphine during the last years of the XY's and my marriage, I was upright and fully-functional, working for a living within mere weeks of kicking him to the curb. I have had to re-draw a line with him that I smudged and finally pretty much erased after his big car accident, namely I will not communicate with him off-record anymore, at all, effective immediately. I had relaxed on my "texts, e-mails, and talks in front of third-party witnesses ONLY" policy after his near-death experience briefly rendered him a kinder, gentler XY, and it was going okay for a while, but either he is over his post-concussion syndrome or has gone off his antipsychotics or hell, I dunno, maybe CATHERINE! stopped putting out or something...at any rate the result is no bueno. I can sit here right now, having not spoken to that man about it in DAYS and say that of COURSE he isn't going to succeed in taking my children away from me, because I am a (mostly) good parent, they are happy, healthy, and well-adjusted in my care, and he is an unstable, unreliable bastard who doesn't follow court orders worth a damn and has THREE psychological conditions that would render any sane human being dubious about awarding him full custody of a GOLDFISH on record with the judge. But five minutes of him screaming at me and calling me names on the phone on a day when I am feeling vulnerable can CONVINCE me that I'd better go home IMMEDIATELY (as in, leave work--I really almost did) and hug my babies because my days of seeing them regularly are numbered. I hate admitting that, and it feels like weakness to have to set these kinds of limits with that wretched man. As a psychologist friend of mine recently reminded me, though, he is a sociopath and I am not. It's not a fair fight. There is no shame in defending my sanity. And maybe if I say that enough times it will start to ring true? I dunno.
All that is to say that I think I'm going to stop shampooing my hair. Wait, what? No, really. Lately I'm knee-deep in Novella Carpenter's blog archives and so jealous of her for having goats that I can hardly see straight. I miss my poultry. I'm planning on acquiring a rain barrell and diverting the grey water from our washing machine for garden use in the Spring (I'm already making my own bio-friendly laundry detergent), and lately, with finances being what they are, I am trying to figure out some ways that I can be green and be frugal at the same time. One of those is that I'm breaking free of as many personal care products as possible (except toilet paper and good ol' highly-carcinogenic industrial-strength antiperspirant--there are LIMITS to my insanity, y'all). I've already stopped using lotion (instead I use coconut oil with a jot of lavendar essential oil in after showers for now, although I have Big Plans for when we get our bees up and running and have access to beeswax on the regular) and fancy leave-in conditioner products (I use the same combination on my ends as I use on my skin, actually). Next up to get the boot, when I run out of what is currently in the house? Shampoo.
I'm not mired in depression and apathy, I'm GREEN.
Okay, fine, there's maybe some overlap. Or maybe my friend Morgan is to blame for sending me her copy of Farm City: The Education of an Urban Farmer and pushing me over the brink of dirty hippie-dom. Either way.
How are all of YOU?