It's funny. On the twenty eighth, I started thinking how great it would be to get back to blogging. I couldn't wait to get back to the keyboard! Then the day finally arrived and I sat down to write...
Nothing. Nada. I was once again a living personification of that Far Side cartoon "Full Moon and Empty Head." As many times as that's happened, it's a wonder I haven't achieved Enlightenment several times over.
These last few weeks have been...Interesting, to say the least. I still don't have any idea, other than maybe a bigger than usual batch of hormones, of what brought on that particularly nasty little attack. I didn't tell anyone - except oh, the entire world through this blog - what was going on until one absolutely scary day.
Now, most of the time, death doesn't scare me. I live next to a cemetery. I collect bones I find in the woods. One of my favorite knick knacks is a little statue of a mischievous Reaper but I am in absolutely no hurry to see what's on the other side of the veil.
I was alone at home when I caught myself seriously thinking that death just might be a welcome relief, if only as means of ending the overwhelming pain I was in. The thought was there for only a few seconds but it was enough. After I pulled myself together as much as I could, I started making phone calls and sending e-mails, in the hopes of both not being alone any more than I had to be and having someone to bounce ideas off of. I never told them how bad it actually got but I think they figured it out. I don't usually marshall the forces like that. I get over it and go on.
As one person said, after I told her part of what had been going on with me, "It's like sumthen evil got aholt of you!" Truth be told, it's hard to argue with that assessment.
But enough about that. It's over and if I have to go through that again, it will be entirely too soon. So, in the spirit of going on, let's unfurl the Jolly Roger, wreak as much artful and surreal havoc as we can and take no prisoners. Come on, it'll be fun.
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