I've been feeling pretty miserable for the last couple of days. Not sure why. Might be money worries (we got 'em). Might be possible, probable "independant" medical exam to prove I'm too sad to work (I think I am). It could be wishing, wanting, longing SO hard for a new baby and wishing, wanting, longing SO much for the one I can't have (I am I am I am). Whatever it is/was/will be all over again, it's easing off a bit. I don't like the dark place. It's exhausting.
Itteh bitteh kittehs became cattons and are now becoming cats. They are both draped around my macbook on my lap right now, trying to sit on it and I'm breaking up occasional bouts of wrestling. I like the warmth. Sketch keeps trying to scale the walls and leave the garden. It's not dangerous out there. I'm just not ready.
I had never even heard of Kibworth Harcourt in Leicestershire (pronunciation guide: Lester-sh'r) until that Live-Feed-who's-visiting-your-blog widget told me I lived there. I live about 180 miles from there. Technology doesn't always work.
This has grabbed my attention. The rhythm method?
I have been wondering why, at 42, forty two dammit, I still feel pangs of sibling rivalry. Need. to. let. that. go.
I have also been wondering why, at 42, forty two dammit to hell, I still don't feel like a grown-up and thinking maybe, yes, this is a good thing.
The real reason I don't want to be 42, fort... oh you get the picture, is that it's not exactly the best time to be revving up your reproductive system. Otherwise, I feel more me than I did at any other time in my life.
Why do cats insist on showing you their bottoms really close-up?
I have too many ideas running about in my head to let me get a good nights sleep. I would like my head to shut down and power off at around 11.30pm. Geek.
I want to make bracelets. Funky bracelets with silver and charms and names and cotton cord and I need to go and do that right now.
It is my turn for good news. Isn't it?