Fuzz

I don't freaking know.

Transition transition. I'm starting to think that life is composed completely of transitions with no solid states in between.

Kay, anyway.

Everything is dangerous. I'm looking for something dangerous because everything is also far too safe.

Let's hope my brain is less swiss-cheesy somewhat soon.

Gobbledy Achoo

God laughs at me or karma bites me in the ass or something. The very day I bragged that I hadn't been sick in a couple of years...yeah, I gots a cold. The whole coughing, stuffy head thing. No fever (thank goodness). Robitussin has become my friend. I might need to run out for another bottle shortly. But then that would entail braving the cold and I'm not too keen on that foray.

During therapy last week, well, almost at the end of the session, which is wholly appropriate for me, I asked the real question: What's going on with me? Of course it took me almost the whole session to get there. Asking the right question at the right time isn't one of my skills. Well, sometimes it is, but not when it pertains to me.

So, what's going on with me? I don't know. Nothing bad...nothing good...nothing much happening...but not stagnation. I don't know. It's been chalked up to my "Saturn Returns" or merely the trapeze of transition, but that seems a titch glib. Although, maybe that's just it. Maybe there isn't really anything. It's just transition.

Okay, then. Transition sucks. I need a road map or something. I'm tired of trying to navigate blindfolded.

Someone want to loan me a housekeeper for a weekend?