Fake it til you make it.

The house plant, I am so proud to have nutured from a small babe to a beautiful, stretching goddess has fungus. I can tell; the dirt is weird and fuzzy. Of course I'm not touching it, I'm just saying. It's definitely fungus. And whether she knows it or not, it's not going away. I've got to get it treated because she is mine to care for.

So, as a SWF who is to care for me? I mean seriously, what am I? Some sort of 30 year old baby that should wear life alert connected to my parents house in case I've fallen and I can't get up? This is no one's fault, including my own. I am not after a definition of happiness, I'm just after happiness. Just letting it come... and I'm sure when I look back on these years of my life they will seem busy but while I'm living them, I certainly do not get that sense.

I think my own METAPHORICAL ONLY "fungus" is my energy. It's not negative, it's not anything. And so I've got the do-nothing fungus and you know what I say about bitching about stuff you aren't willing to change...?

Lock it up.

The following Monday

My mom has asked me to open my heart, so I'm going to try.

Any given Monday.

I still pray for the strength to get through the day without a crutch.
Every, single day.

And I don't blame anyone.
I'd rather not even look up.

but the test of any great relationship is perseverance.

So see you next Monday.