(Dear Reader, it's not you; it's me.) With that little disclaimer out of the way I can get started on my purely, self-indulgent whine fest.
I have not kept up with my blog because I have not been able to step out of myself, and see the humor beneath the cloud of gloom I have created all around me. Maybe it began with the bad haircut . . . maybe it began with the prescription pill weight gain . . . maybe it began when I had to go back to an overly stressful work environment before I was fully recovered from major surgery . . . maybe, maybe, maybe. Who cares. I'm so sick of myself it's ridiculous. There is NOTHING hugely wrong with me. N.O.T.H.I.N.G. That is why I say I created my own gloomy cloud. BORRring.
I did get a bad, bad haircut. It was a home job. Chop, chop. It is only now beginning to look good to me three months later. I kind of like how it has grown out. To maintain it I could use another haircut. Problem is, I'm afraid of 'hairstylists'. They scare me more than going back in time to visit a sadistic 60's dentist. My hair has become the least of my worries. It, at least, is tangible. The rest of me is steeped in negative joo joo; bad energy; cloudy karma; wrong firing neurons.
It is way past time to hunt down a mule for a good kick to the head. All around me people are having real problems while I grump about my day. But, here's the thing. I have done my best to protect the general population. I have been in deep hibernation. I don't go anywhere besides work. I stay home, I go to work. I keep out of every one's way. When I do have to go out in public people feel the need to remind me how long it has been since they've seen me. Then, the dreaded question, "What have you been doing?" Argh. Nothing. I've been doing nothing. Beyond that I am empty of small talk. I cannot for the life of me exchange pleasantries. When asked how I am, I exert herculean self-control to keep from telling them e-x-a-c-t-l-y how I feel, and it's not 'fine'. Avoiding engagement, I don't ask how them how they are doing either.
My doc wondered if I had a hole in my aura. God almighty, that's all I need. I don't know if I have a hole in my damned aura. I'm not sure what my aura does, or if it exists. One time some stranger walked up to me, and told me my aura was hot orange, and I must be in a lot of physical pain. Duh, I was rubbing my neck and wincing in -- wait for it -- pain. OK, so if you know me, you know I am open to all of that woo woo stuff. It's just that my bad mood precludes me being able to deal with any other realms of consciousness right now. Here, now, and three dimensions is about all I can handle.
I did work with a psychic/energy cleaner outer/woo woo expert recently, and it just made me mad. Apparently, I had some hitchhiking old woman stuck to me like glue for the last two years. I guess she's gone now but, I'm pretty upset with her for dragging me down. Just who did she think she was sucking up my good energy because she was too afraid to move on to her next destination? Didn't I have enough to deal with with a failing heart, a stressed out spouse, and a sick kid? The woo woo lady told me to write the hitchhiker lady a letter. I was supposed to put all of my bad feelings in the letter, and burn it. I've heard of adult children of screwed up parents doing that. It's supposed to be cathartic. I haven't done that yet. I guess it couldn't hurt but it's one more thing.
May peace and an intact aura be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.