I'm not so irritable, and that in itself should be alarming. God knows there's so much to be irritated about, but I don't care. I'm doing my little chores and sleeping well. I'm even dreaming again. Let the world go to hell in a hand-basket. Me, I could care less.
I have contracted with a friend and neighbor to accompany me whenever I go see my cardiologist to take notes and ask questions.
Enigma sent me easy yoga links and if I could stay awake while relaxing, I'd be doing some yoga.
Freida Bee has inspired me to clean my closet of clothes that are too small and to forget forever that I might be that size again. Then I go in hunt of my transitioning from plump to fat clothes, mainly some form of muumuu or maternity clothes that will accommodate my gut. And I must buy a new bigger bra and several pair of fat and happy under pants.
I am diligently editing my novel, chapter by chapter. My goal is to work on a couple a day.
And I'm going to a party tonight. Imagine that. It's just next door, but still... There will be food, drink, grown ups and kids. It's a start.
The 3-Martini Stupid is Served
3 minutes ago