Wednesday, July 13, 2011
A world of things to discuss---
But all I can think of is I hate this layout. However, I am not a web designer, nor do I care to be-so for now, I will stick with this nauseating peach and bird motif. And I don't want to hear a word about it. I have enough troubles in my life at the present time, so don't hassle me about layouts.
The picture above is my dog Fozzy. I have another dog, Sammy. I may post her picture at a later time. I love these fucking animals. I never thought I would be in a crisis so big, that I would have to consider giving them, away. I always thought "those" people who gave up their animals were irresponsible and heartless. But now I see these things do happen. And yes, they can happen to you.
My life is at a crossroads. It is very stressful and I have decided to begin to break free and try to lessen this stress. Although, part of me has no energy and would prefer to lay down in the gutter and have wild horses trample me. But another time for that.
As for now--I must leave my home of five years. This home began with a husband and many pets--and ended with sick elderly parents headed toward eviction. I have had ups and downs--mostly downs, but have never given up hope, stopped working and most importantly I have kept my sense of humor. I mean, I still want to run into a bus and sleep for a year, but I manage. Life is handing me plates of shit over easy and I am trying to eat it all and still save room for dessert.
I love my animals. I love animals in general. They make me cry, even when there is nothing to cry about. I will save my cats--even if they have to sit in my stupid Forever 21 purse for the next 18 years-----My dogs-- I will learn to forgive myself--or not. But I pray that I can find them a home in the country. A better home---than even I can offer. (Tears dripping down my leg)
I wanted to begin writing again--I want a trip to Tuscany too, but I will stick to the writing for now. I am starting this blog--driblets of feelings and stories,a little at a time in hopes of eventually writing a novel. Stuffing the fear that my story doesn't count down the toilet.
At this point-I want to title my book--"Look, I grew up in New York, I'm Forty---what the fuck?"
Until next time-----although I may be slightly busy packing my incense and candles, waiting for my Father's latest Cancer results and buying another cute $20 dress---I must look decent during a crisis at least.
**I also want to acknowledge and thank a very special person who is helping me during this time, offering me a place to stay and letting me cry about 2,486 times a day. (Thank you BW~)