"Whoever said "Don't cry over spilt milk," hasn't seen the price of food lately." -Maxine

Elvis is still alive. In fact, he's his same 'ol self. Driving me bat-shit crazy with the whole lick-my-hair-get-as-close-to-my-face-as-he-possibly-can-meowing-non-stop wake-up call in the morning, then meowing incessantly until he finally meows himself to sleep. I love it when he sleeps. I could just stare at him and listen to his little whiffle-snore all day long. It'll be a dark day in this household when he finally does pass, but hopefully that's not for awhile. A loooooooooong while.

I had my first therapy appointment with my new therapist this morning. Sarah. I'm not sure what to think, yet, because in a first appointment, it's basically just me yakking and bringing her up to speed. It's not a pleasant experience to talk about the drama at the church, the ensuing anxiety, leaving the church, moving to this little hamlet (ok, that's pleasant), my suicidal thoughts and actions, various fucked-up medications, more anxiety, and being unemployed for a year and some months. The bright spots? I can drive. I can mow my own lawn. I can sit out on my porch and soak in the sun without being overly concerned about what people think. I CAN READ! I can nap. I can watch t.v. I can concentrate. I can sort-of-relax. I can stand on my own two feet without falling over. I'm even able to change my attitude & thoughts - mostly concerning my neighbor & his loud truck and parking habits. I don't want to take a bomb to his truck anymore and I'm doing a pretty darn good job of just ignoring the whole thing. I'm able to apply for jobs and not get overly depressed when I. HEAR. NOTHING. Nope. Not a word. I don't dwell on things. Well, except for when I'm trying to take a nap. Then, for some reason, I relive my entire past, all the sordid details, and can't get to sleep. And, o.k., my anxiety seems to be increasing just a tad. And I don't have the energy(?), motivation(?), desire(?) to workout as much as I was. But! It's nothing I can't handle.

*sigh*

I was thinking the other day - I'm not-quite-40. I could live 20 more years! Hell, I could live 40 more years! It's daunting. I look at all that time and wonder how I'll ever make it and I suspect other people look at all that time and think it's not enough. They want more. I want less. It's too much to think about.

Guess I'll just go read.

"Some days the best thing about my job is that my chair spins." -Maxine

And I won't even have a chair that spins after my younger brother moves into his new house! He wants his chair back. Which is o.k. Really. I lived without it before and I'll get by without it after. But it is fun to spin in the chair.

My "job" this morning has been taking care of Elvis. First, it was allowing him to wake me up with his hair-licks. He really went to town...on my hair. Then it started to hurt - me - so I made him stop. But I did get up and feed him and give him fresh water. That's when I noticed the numerous pools of vomit in my kitchen, dining room & bedroom. Just when I think I've cleaned up the last spot, I find another. *sigh* At least there weren't any hairballs.  After 15 minutes, I was finally able to *start* my morning. I was grabbing my Kindle to play Pandora while I took a shower and noticed more pools........of blood.

Now he's bleeding?!? It's Sunday! I can't call the vet on Sunday! And why not?!? It's just another day like any other. *sigh* Hopefully I won't have to. Elvis! Get over here! Ok, Ok, I'll come to you & pick you up. Where are you bleeding? Geezy lou, at least it's not the same spot you were bleeding from before. This I can deal with. Let's get you cleaned up so you don't leave any more bloodstains around the house. Like on my couch. Or my bed. I know, I know. It's not comfortable, but I don't think you're dying so get over here! Be happy I'm not throwing you in a tub-full of water! *cuddle* *cuddle* Don't die on me. I wouldn't be able to take it if you died. You can't die. Not yet. MEOW!

*sigh*

He's fine. Really. He just seems like he's knocking at death's door. In reality, he's his same 'ol self. Meowing incessantly. Pawing at me to pay attention to him. Jumping onto the kitchen counter to drink water out of the sink. Jumping into the tub to drink water out of the tub. You'd think I never filled his water dish. If he doesn't see me do it, it's like it didn't  happen.

Here's hoping the rest of my day isn't spent cleaning up anything else....

"I can still burn up the ol' dance floor. Stupid hot flashes!"

Hello 125 pounds! How I've missed you! Where did you go? Oh, you were buried under 5 lbs of ice cream & peanut butter? Well, I'm sorry about that, but it sure is good to see you!

Granted, 125 lbs doesn't look or feel much different than 130 lbs, but it's encouraging to see the scale go down and not crumble in fear when I approach it.

"If one more person says "bless you" after I sneeze, I think I get to be a saint!" -Maxine

I'm very anxious. Not "very, VERY". Not severely. But definitely....very anxious.

"Why" you ask?

I have no clue. I really have nothing to be anxious about but I've noticed in the last week or so,  it's gotten worse. Not so bad that I don't want to leave the house. Not so bad that I can't drive. Not so bad that I just want to stay in bed. Not so bad that I want to pop every anti-anxiety pill I have in my possession to stop it. Ok, maybe that last one.

I finally admitted to myself this morning that it - the anxiety - had returned. I wanted to just ignore it and pretend I wasn't feeling nauseated; that my stomach hasn't been upset; that I can sleep...but a person can only ignore something for so long until it slaps them in the face.

I'm not going to worry about it. *lol* I will, however, ponder excessively WHY it's returned.

Maybe it's because my 3 year sober anniversary is approaching and people tend to turn stupid around their anniversary. I'm really not all that concerned with it and suppose the day will be like any other day. I don't envision myself running out to the store to buy a case of beer to chug. Though the other night I did smell a whiff of liquor and thought that sounded pretty good. Not that I'd drink any or even want to be around people drinking but it was just a flicker of a thought.

Maybe it's because I've applied for 3 jobs and haven't heard a word. I do catch myself wondering if I'll EVER find a job that I enjoy or if I'll be homeless pretty soon. I wonder what the hell is wrong with me that I don't even get an interview!? And, even if I get an interview, I haven't been batting 100 there, either. But I try not to think too hard on the "why" and just keep plugging along, searching the internet for anything remotely related to my strengths, and applying like mad.

Maybe it's because.....

Maybe it's because.....

Maybe it's because....I haven't had any ice cream or peanut butter or PB M&M's or anything sweet in over a week. Maybe all those sweets were keeping me sane. If that's the case, I'm going to be thin....and crazy. Get used to it.

"I consider the phrase "all you can eat" a personal challenge!" -Maxine

I ran out of peanut butter last week.

I didn't buy any when I shopped on Sunday.

It's now Wednesday and I haven't had any ice cream, peanut butter, M&M's, cake, pie, whatever for a week!

It hasn't killed me.....yet.

I've lost weight.

One pound.

*sigh*

I guess this means the "green coffee bean" pills I've dutifully been taking for a month have done next to nothing. I told myself I'd give them 60 days, as the label says, but if I just cut out all sweets (minus a cup of sugar free chocolate pudding), then I should be able to lose weight. No? Yes? Maybe?

It shouldn't be this hard. Good thing I  like salad.

I realized the other day, I gained 25lbs in 4 months. That's, what, 6.25 lbs a month? Sounds about right. That's probably the equivalent of the amount of ice cream (& PB) I ate in a month.

So - the goal is, since I've already gone a week without any significant "treat" (I don't count 60 calories of sugar free chocolate pudding as 'significant') I'm cutting them all out. Mom, no cake, pie, rhubarb dessert, pudding concoctions or any other delectable treats that you make!

I've got to get rid of this Buddha belly (no offense to Buddha).

Though, now that I've talked about it, I'll not be able to think about anything else but ice cream & peanut butter or some other fattening thing and will rush right out to Kum & Go and buy them out of candy bars and ice cream and peanut butter.

Somebody take my keys! Quick!

"Summer and cookouts just go together. Kind of like my neighbor's grill and my gushing garden hose." -Maxine

It took me two hours and my head was dripping sweat, but I finally got my house clean after the dogs left. I washed everything. Rugs. Pillows. Sheets. I sprayed all my furniture down with Fabreze. I Swiffered, vacuumed, then Wet-Jetted all my floors.

There's still dog hair.

*sigh*

I might be over my need to decorate, rearrange things, paint, plant, etc after the Antique Walk. The Walk must get my creative juices flowing. I bought new curtains for my living room. White. I'm still not convinced they're not totally see-through at night, but I'm getting over my self-consciousness. So what if people watch me sit on my ass, watching t.v., eating grapes and reading? Or, most likely, napping. I'm really not all that exciting. The curtains really brighten up the room and that's what I wanted. Cottages should be airy.

Dad installed a trellis on the "neighbor" side of my front porch. It looks great. Now I just need climbing flowers to plant. I think that can wait until next spring. The front porch is beautiful. Beautifully (almost) done.

My focus this past week has been on my side porch - the porch everybody uses to come & go from my house - the porch I use most. It feels cozier & more closed off (even though it isn't).

I (Dad) hung an old window frame that I painted white on the side of my garage that faces my south porch. It was just a blank, gray wall that needed a little oomph. I painted two horseshoes I got when I first moved into my house (& quickly realized I had nowhere above any door to hang them) and hung them from the window frame.

I'm still getting used to it. Yes, I know horseshoes hanging opposite is supposed to be bad luck, but not necessarily. The horseshoe pointing down flows good luck to my neighbors. The one pointing up "captures" good luck coming my way. See? I'm helping the neighborhood!

I bought a silver, metal, decorative piece at a garage sale last week and painted it.

I had a butterfly plant hanger already, but it was dark green so I painted it aqua.

Dad hung new plant hooks so I could have it where I wanted.

This morning, I bought a new outdoor chair (for only $11.00!) at Walmart and impatiens to plant in the hanging basket.

I still have two bundles of impatiens left so will plant those in my other hanging basket and hang them on this porch, too. As soon as Mom & Dad get home from church and I can go over to their house to get dirt. Isn't it funny that there's dirt everywhere, but god forbid I dig up my yard to use any of it?

Elvis even seems to enjoy it.

Now I just need about 100 more plants & flowers and I'll be good to go! But, really, I finally feel like maybe, just maybe, I'm done.

For this season.