I've been finding it hard to write lately. Not because I've been down, but because of lack of opportunity, coupled with unsureness on what to write and how to do it. Not that there isn't subject matter, but I'm not a natural writer, and wish I was. I adore the written word so much, that it's almost like blasphemy letting myself at a blank page. It's mediocre and I know it. I wish I didn't know it; ignorance is bliss. I guess I have some perfectionist tendencies that I need to tame. Because I do need to communicate (which is hard enough at best), and not doing something because you can't do it perfectly is really, really, silly. *sigh* Intellectually I do know this.
The lack of opportunity part goes like this: hubby has had pneumonia. A chest cold gone bad. Probably due to stress. It's been a very stressful past month for him, poor guy. As a result, for the past week he's been out of commission. Watching a lot of Seinfeld reruns.
So. I guess I'm realizing how much he really does help out around here. I've been running my tail off trying to keep up with the daily domestic demands (I love alliterations too, Susan!). It's like when husbands go away for a while, and the wife says 'gee, now I now what it would be like to be a single parent'. Yeah kind of like that. Only I know what it's like to be a single parent, and this isn't anywhere near as hard on many, many levels.
But still, time consuming and physically draining to wear the many hats required throughout the day to keep my 4 mop tops happy & healthy. Laundry anyone? And I swear keeping them fed is a full-time job in itself. And why didn't anyone tell me how much teenagers ask to be chauffeured around? And? Did no one inform my 3 year old that she is no longer 2, and that tantrums are so last year???? I'm tired. I need coffee.

BUT! The good news? I've been successfully keeping hold of this hypomania. Except for a minor dip the day of, and the day after the Garage Sale. That was just too much stress right there. STRESS, I tell you. But I'm still hummin' so I'm very grateful. I can't imagine coping if I was anything but. Yes, actually I can. It would be called NOT coping. Don't care to recall what that's like at the moment, thanks.
And I must tell you that knowing you guys are all right here, living in my laptop is oh so comforting. Knowing I can steal a few minutes here and there to check up on you all and leave the odd comment - connecting - is becoming a really important part of my life. It's a lifeline of sorts. A real comfort. Thank you for being here!