Collecting my Thoughts....

Evening all.

I spent another day locked inside my head running through a maze that has no end. At least that's what it seems like. After two weeks of "talk" therapy for my "adjustment" syndrome (the new passive term for shell shock or Post traumatic stress disorder) I was recommended for anxiety medication. I started yesterday which is probably why I couldn't write anything yesterday. By 9 PM, I was exhausted and dizzy. Hey, no change! I feel like that now. I think other than fucking my world up, allowing me to have at least 3 thoughts in my head going simultaneously, and a bad case of the jitters, the worst part of this med is that I would wake up two or three times every hour last night, and finally wide awake at 4 AM. My alarm goes off at 5. The demon is not happy.

Tonight I went to a book signing for The Last of the Donkey Pilgrims, by Kevin O'Hara. It was great, and there was live music. A little Irish folk music to put you in the mood of hearing tales of a man, a donkey, and a journey around Ireland. Mr. O'Hara was funny. I fell in love with the donkey and I haven't even seen her. I can't wait to read this book. Unfortunately, it is no. in my queue. Bummer.

In my absence, Hubby decided to go through some of our unfiled paperwork. So everything that was tucked not- so- neatly away is now scattered in piles throughout the kitchen. He is giving me the evil eye. I assume that means I need to go through them. Great. He always seems to start projects no earlier than 10 PM. He's one of those night people that feels that if they aren't staying up late doing tasks and/or hobbies, the day isn't complete. He also gets a stiff jolly from seeing me get frustrated as I motion towards my computer signaling that I am typing. Means I should wrap this up.

I think next week I will start sharing memories from Iraq. I just need to collect my thoughts and figure out how to get a year's worth of joy, sadness, pride, humor, and disappointment in a couple of blog entries. Meditate on this I will.

Well, be good. If you must break a 100 to pay for a 50 cent newspaper, at least be cheery about it to the cashier. I personally hate assholes that come into the store, and as the first customer of the day, pay for a 50 cent paper with a big fat Benjamin. Also, the asshole that pays for a $11.59 cent book with pennies. That shit is fucked up. It is too fucking early in the morning for that!!! Oh, I 'm sorry. (See what I mean about my head is all screwed up!)

Sleep well all.

Our contribution to the progress
of the world must, therefore, consist
in setting our own house in order.

--Mahatma Gandhi (I love this quote. Truth from the G-man)

Yokai