about nothing in particular

Sometimes I miss the previous version of myself with her thick thick hair (my hair is thinning rapidly on these wicked pills) and her creative energy driving her to write something every day and doodle fairy tale pictures on index cards but she is asleep inside the slow moving automaton I am now.

I was off this weekend which was lovely and I made banana bread for M's birthday cake by request and I made little buttermilk biscuits with self rising flour because that is all self rising flour is good for and they were light and crisp and buttery and I could have eaten my weight in those little bastards.

I am binge watching The Blacklist on netflix starring a very weathered looking James Spader and all of the characters are morally ambiguous not just the criminals and I eat the episodes like those little red candy fish.

I need to give up on everthing I do so I can endlessly watch crime dramas and consume many varieties of homemade biscuits. I tire of you, real grownup world.

letters from the dreamspace

Last night I had a dream that my son was thirteen years old and he had chubby dimpled wrists like a baby and we were staying in a cottage near the ocean and we sat in the grassy spaces just beyond the sand and we watched the boats and then we danced in the living room. This was a good dream and not an anxiety dream which happens only rarely.

this:

I am thinking about how people want so many things, like trips to Hawaii or a kitchen remodel or a glamorous pair of shoes and all I want is a.) lots of sleep and b.) pain relief. No really. That's it.

I read some monster poems on Saturday at Uncharted Books and it was the first time I felt well enough to go to a reading in at least a year so it was nice to feel a little like my old self almost although not quite because I felt like hell the next day even though I wasn't really on my feet for more than a few minutes at a time. Still it was good to read and to listen and to go someplace other than a.) work or b.) a doctor's office or physical therapy.

I am off tomorrow and I want to write and bake french bread or almond poppyseed cake and maybe draw pictures of insects and tragic women but I will probably sleep and go to PT and go to the pharmacy and sleep some more and make dinner and go to sleep again.