So it's 2 AM and you want to read a blog? Well, here I am. I know, I know...I woke you up for that? My dog, Maxwell, feels the same way about it. Only he eats cat shit to let me know how he feels. Both unicorn meat eating cats are in...they are every night; this is the city, after all. I can trust them to avoid deer and bears, but not cars. They all sleep with me. And while it can be comforting, and down right necessary in the winter, it can also be claustrophobic.
My shrink has decided I would rather be fat than unstable, so WE are taking a new med. I have added 10 pounds in a month, and at this rate, I will be Ms. Santa by Christmas. Two weeks ago, I sat down and scarfed a quart of ice cream, butter pecan.
It doesn't help that my best friend, Dark Star, is close to 6 foot and weighs the same as my right leg. She is good, through and through, and ice cream doesn't pass those lips...although I can't say the same about fudge. I give her some every Christmas and it disappears, magically. Her husband, Bubba, probably eats it. Or she gives it to orphans wandering around the smallish town she lives in.
I was talking to another blogger yesterday, "Diary of a Mad Woman" and I forgot to tell her my life sometimes feels like a whole season of "Law & Order: SVU". (Sexual Victim's Unit) --- see my blog yesterday...
My zinnia are blooming out there in the dark, and instead of the squash, we now have morning glories. I am happy with the substitution. Squash taste good, but morning glories are good for the soul.
