slug fest.

I’ve managed to get my schedule pretty clear for the rest of July. and i have things i want to do.

i do not want to do yoga but i went and exercised for the first time in several years last night, (which is kindof on a want-to-do list) and then i collapsed on the sofa and i missed a thing i actually really do want to do. so what is that? a double edged sword? in my slovenly sodden month of july?

sodden=humidity. so much of it. so very much of it.

and slovenly? ha. i might watch more tv because i don’t have something pulling me into the other room, but I’m going to enjoy the hell out of my kids at the beach if a single day of sun ever arrives, or dropping them here and there and fifty other things. and so there will be driving, and lots of it. and i’m devastated to say, i have to start getting them packed for camp. three weeks these boys will be gone. and its too damn long. it just is. i’ll be driving back and forth to maine, so there will be that, and i’m taking the littlest on a little sidetrip and i’m quite thrilled about it. and it involves a spontaneous motel-finding, so its another whothehell knows moment. but hang on there, there’s more.

i’ve been reading about something called ‘disorganized attachment‘. I’m just touching the iceberg with sturdy gloves on, so i’m not sure its 100% on target for me, but much of it is. my parents were fantastic, and i’m not a product of abuse. There were a lot of times when i was living with them, that their focus was entirely elsewhere, and not wrongly. There is something in that time which made me not trust, and I am still in that.

so its been an interesting ride, to find some real and achingly familiar paragraphs that suit me, and my style, and/or problem set. heh. problem set. like i’m some page in an algebra textbook.

hello 8th grade math, i am you.

I also discovered, and honestly, you would think this would be a no-brainer, but no. I also discovered a very firm boundary about being around men who drink in any way problematically. very firm. Its not for me. and guess what? i’m the one who says whats problematic. Not going to happen and I’m sorry that I like you, but no. and finding out how to say it is my new struggle because i also know how much i have to deal with my people pleasing self.

boy, do i want everyone to think i’m the best woman in the world… shoot. i do. its not healthy and its also impossible, so what? man.

This is July, and this is my online therapy of choice currently. we all need therapy, more of it. more.

huh. my brain just wondered if i should be dating a therapist. one stop shopping.

i love my brain and her sick sick ways.

July, man.



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Dapple yourself silly. and Pink? Yeah. Go. Photo by Madison Inouye on

1 thought on “slug fest.”

  1. Date a therapist because you think he’s hot or you like being with him but not BECAUSE he’s a therapist. But you already know that. Congratulations on our firm boundary around excessive drinking. Reasonable expectation; healthy. Good for you.

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