Sh! Don't look now, but I think I'm approaching a "normal" state.
The following are over: Christmas, mother's birthday, daughter's birthday, Valentine's Day, son's solo in class play, Spring Break, Lent, Easter, my son's birthday, and the Brownie service project I decided to dream up.
I'm looking ahead into the near future, and I'm not shuddering.
And I'm not in some wacky state of mental Zen--with a side of Feng Shui. The future looks a bit rocky. I still have my son's birthday party, three concerts, two hideous meetings of a group I volunteer for, (one of which will involve out-of-town travel with a bunch of old ladies including my mother, and the other of which will involve my wearing a corsage. Don't ask.) Oh, and I might be attending That Stud Muffin I Married's 20th reunion with him. Ew.
But I'm looking around, and things seem relatively peaceful. I think I have six more weeks before any really serious s. hits the f.
I'm feeling so at peace that I've decided to chuck any idea of having my blog entry flow gently from one idea to the next.
I'm on Day Two of the South Beach Diet. This is an excellent diet for people who are feeling puffy, and who don't mind eating eggs without toast, biscuits, or starch of any kind.
When I was younger, I would have sworn that my gullet would seal itself off at the very idea of swallowing scrambled eggs without toast, and you can just forget anything runnier and gooier, like eggs over easy. My gorge rose at the thought.
But with age comes wisdom--as well as puffiness--and phrases like "Lose 13 pounds in two weeks!" have a tendency to jump off of book covers and attach themselves to one's corneas. Accordingly, two years ago, I allowed the South Beach Diet to help me lose about 30 pounds.
Unfortunately, eggs without toast lost their appeal, whereas doughnuts started to look pretty good, and the weight crept back on. First I noticed that my fall clothes were too tight, so I bought new ones. Then I noticed, as I packed for spring break at Walt Disney World, that my spring/summer clothes didn't want to button and/or zip. Then, on Easter Sunday I weighed myself and discovered that I'm at my pre-pregnancy high. So it's back to the eggs without toast, and isn't it lucky that I happen to have a generous supply of hard-boiled eggs in the house?
I have a new tenant this week, Mrs. Fortune. Her blog is new to me, and so far, I like it a lot. I've only read three or four entries, but I've discovered that Mrs. Fortune, while both female and a blogger, does not like cats, which right from the start, makes her stand out of the crowd. Also, she is pregnant, but not, apparently, overly sentimental about it, and Jewish, but not particularly vehement about that, either. As the blogosphere is rife with fundamentalist Christian home-schooling cat-loving women, it's a refreshing change of pace to read the blog of someone who is none of the above.
Also, she's funny, she swears almost as much as I do, and she won $2,000 playing poker on her honeymoon. I'm very impressed by that last part, by the way. I play poker from time to time, but I never win huge sums of money; I just end up naked.
At any rate, I say you should click on the thumbnail over there, or I might have to start posting pictures of me losing at strip poker while eating eggs without toast. This is no empty threat, because as I mentioned above, my life has become magically unharried. This means I'll be able to find a fully-charged digital camera and the cables to attach it to my laptop very easily indeed. So you'd better click on Mrs. Fortune's link. The consequences of ignoring my pleas won't be pretty.