"Maybe one day I can have a reunion with myself." -- Sebastian Bach

This is my somewhat informal last will & testament. I am of fairly sound mind & somewhat flabby body.

It's been one full week of, literally, sitting at a computer for 8 hours. If I don't start exercising soon, my muscles are going to atrophy and I'm going to grow two asses. But that isn't what's going to kill me. At least I don't think it will.  What's going to kill me is the 17 mile highway drive.

I have enough anxiety as it is. I'm anxious all day, every day. I deep breathe. I positive self-talk. I don't know what else to do except drug myself so much that I'm comatose. I don't do that because I'm anxious about that, as well. I'm a recovering alcoholic. I do not want to become addicted, again, to anything (other than coffee & Diet Caffeine-Free Pepsi and cigarettes....and pizza....and the Hormel Meat Tray....but those are all normal things). So I don't take the anti-anxiety medication, Clonazepam, as often as I want to. It's a narcotic and I don't want to be a pill popper. It's hard not to take it all the time.

So, when I die on the highway, because that's surely where it's going to happen. Not the toilet, like I had originally anticipated (I'm constipated, so nothing going on there). Not the alcohol (praise the FSM). Not some psycho sex addict. Nope, it's going to be some not-so-innocent 16 year old girl texting on her way to or from the big H who crosses the center line and hits me head on. Get me on the interstate as fast as possible!!!  There is no shoulder to save my life, either. It's soft gravel and if I'm forced onto it, I'll flip the car several times and I highly doubt any amount of air bags will save my life.

Here's what I want done:
1. Cremate me.
2. Do whatever you want afterward as long as it doesn't involve religion or a church.
3. I could care less because I'll be dead, but I swear to the FSM that if I'm embalmed and buried anywhere, I will rezombify and come after you to eat you.

That's it, plain & simple.

However......

If I'm hit and I somehow "survive" but I'm lifeless (no brain activity) pull the plug immediately. Don't prolong the agony. If it's a broken arm, don't pull the plug. I'll make it through a broken arm. I think......

Again, plain & simple.

Oh, and just have one massive garage sale where everything costs .50 and get rid of all my shit. Or have a massive bonfire with all my shit and me included. Save money all around!

On another note, had my 20 year reunion with the original class that I didn't graduate with. Weird, eh? It was nice that they invited me and included me in their photo. I truly appreciated that. So...here we all are:

I think this might even make it into the "W" newspaper. I look like I've got something stuck in my craw, which I probably did. 

I was anxious about this as well. Not that 'stuck in the craw or newspaper' part, but just GOING. I have such a hard time leaving the house. And staying away from the house. It's like it's got some sort of hold on me or a pull to bring me back. Maybe it really is haunted and all my jokes about that are really true. "Alice, I hope you like what I've done with the joint...." Maybe she does and she wants me to stay (for-ev-er) and finish what I've started. OK, I might not die on the highway. I might die in this house.......

But remember what I said: rezombify and eat you......

Spiders, Mice, and Ants, Oh My!

It started with spiders. We bombed the joint.

Then I saw a mouse or a shrew or something small & fast. We set out poison.

And now, ants. We set out this stuff - I don't know what it does to attract them, but boy does it work!  I set it out and 5 minutes later, it's covered in ants, which is totally disgusting. They then disappear, taking the poison back to their ant-hill-home and kill all the rest. I don't know where this home is and that makes me nervous. Is it in my cereal? Is it in my coffee (god forbid!)? Is it in the windowsill? I'm happy thinking it's in the windowsill.

Sand volleyball was like standing in the middle of a tornado. The volleyball court is in wide open country-land so the wind has no break and boy was it windy that night! And the majority of players were much, much younger than I - by about 15 years - so there was no need to worry about booze of any kind. It was ok, but after 1.5 hours, I walked myself home. I'm boring. I'm a boring person. I'm bored out of my mind and nothing fills it. Nothing. I just got back from playing cards with mom & dad (god bless them for putting up with my boringness) and now I sit and am bored all over again. It's daunting, this amount of boring.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow when the M'town family come to visit the Antique Walk and to see the new house. I guess I should clean, huh? Then I wouldn't be so bored.....

Remember when?

During rehab, I played a lot of sand (dirt) volleyball. I loved it. My arms looked like a heroin addicts from all the bruises, but it was the most fun I had in that place.

In about 10 minutes, I'm going to go play sand volleyball in the little hamlet I live in -- with people I haven't seen or spoken to in years. I'm anxious as hell.  And also grateful to the one friend, Shan, who is constantly reaching out to me and getting me more involved in small town life.

Who am I?

I'm bringing soda and water and cigarettes, of course. I should be bringing Abilify and Clonazepam as well.

When you don't know what to write, just start and it'll come to you....or at least I hope it does.

I'm a boring person. I'm bored so I must be boring.

I'm anxious as hell about starting a new job on Monday. And why? Why am I anxious about starting a job I'm not even excited about? Who cares what people think of me or how I do? I care, that's why. And guess what? I'll kill at this job. It's a cake walk. I'm just not excited about it and that's why I'm anxious. Hell, I don't need a reason to be anxious. I am 100% of the time.

Yet another room (dining room) was painted. At least this time I was in the mood. Now it's time for a break.

Friends visiting has been awesome but too few & far between. I guess it's time I get out & start making friends in this little hamlet. I'm going to sand volleyball tonight. I'm hoping there will not be copious amounts of drinking, but I need to get used to it so I'm going. I'll be taking my soda & cigarettes. lol. Such an oxymoron.

These folks have also invited me to their class reunion next weekend, where, again, I'm sure there will be alcohol. Ugh. I'm going to be lugging around a cooler of soda with me everywhere I go from now on. At least my cooler is pretty. I didn't even graduate with these folks and they're nice enough to invite me to their shin-dig. I'm going no matter what.

This weekend is the hamlet's HUGE Antique Walk. I have loved this time of year since we moved to town. My mind may change after actually living through it in my own home. All the people trekking through my yard, parking in my yard, being noisy in my vicinity. It isn't going to be relaxing at all which is good because if it were a quiet weekend all I'd do is fret over starting the new job on Monday. AND my M'town fam is coming Saturday for this craziness and to see the new digs, so I'm excited about that. My yard is crap anyway-- who cares who parks in it?

I'm trying out a new beauty salon tomorrow. My hair only needs a trim but I wanted the girl to see it when it looks good; not shaggy. Surely she can't screw it up too badly, right? If I'm bald, you'll know the answer to that....

So, the run-down is: I'm bored. I'm anxious. I'm starting a new job in less than a week. I'm excited about old friends visiting and making new friends. I'm excited about family coming to the Walk. I'm excited about the Walk. I'm anxious about a haircut. A haircut.

Bored.
Anxious
Excited.

That about sums up my life.