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How many ways can one girl find to dress up tiny stories about the same life experiences over and over again? Stay tuned.
It was an excellent week. “No catastrophes and I giggled a lot” is the new excellent, “boring and average” is the new “good”, and ”hey, I’m not dead this time” is the new “optimistically bad.’
I refuse to utilize any other ranking system.
Technically the week isn’t over. I hope I didn’t just jinx myself! (12345! Does that nullify it? I can’t remember enough elementary school.)
Friday I had the heaviest workload by far, but you know what? Being employed is cool, and I also had pizza.
‘My brother continues to drive me insane and amuse me in equal measure. Any moment is a flip of a coin. He’s starting hitting the walls HARD when he gets frustrated, which is not a good thing. He’s been really frustrated lately and, as always, it is a mystery.
Ahhh, the gifts of autism, Down syndrome and not being able to communicate in words.
It scares Mallory Pancakes and I don’t know who I feel worse for.
I complain about lacking inner peace. I’m a broken record, but I don’t narcissistically expect to be happy. Life is not a game of Candyland. Or a game at all. (The people who live like it is always end up losing.)
Still finding myself wanting reasonable things in unreasonable ways. Like trusting in a firm ending of my story. As I always say, particularly when it comes to men, I want an ending tied up in a ribbon that won’t strangle me.
Near death experience videos and books define my life. They provide instant calm. Because even though ‘the now‘ is…well, you fill in the blanks… I can know that the “and there she went” will wash it away. Happy endings matter, but we rarely get them here.
So maybe fairytales aren’t wrong. Many of them make no sense. But name 5 things in life that do.
‘I’ll wait.
(cricket-effing-cricket)
That‘s what I thought. I’m glad I wrote all this tonight.
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