My Pity Party. Please don’t join me.

I’m feeling sad… or maybe just tired. 

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What is happening? I feel worried. And this stupid poison ivy keeps me up at night. And I’ve lost 15 lbs over the last year by choice and all is good except my blood pressure is so high. Genetics? Really? Or work; or  diet; or lack of exercise?
Who really knows or cares? Just throw pills at me after 10 minutes in your office. I hate you honestly. Tell me what to do… don’t throw pills at me. Don’t add to the American Tragedy.         And Work. Work is a whole other place, the 44 hours out of my 112 hours of living and breathing waking hours in a 7 day week. Oh yes I need a job. But is it really so much to ask that the place I give nearly 40% of my waking hours to, that I would give so much more to, would appreciate that I care, that I do a good job? Apparently so. So I’ve moved on to the other 60% and built a life. Work compartmentalized. And I paint. I’ve always painted. And things are good. Plenty of love goes into those 68 free wonderful hours to live and to maintain my equilibrium. But I’m afraid sometimes.  Happy most times. Lonely almost never. I try to be good. I try to be present. I try to be kind, to be interested and to be a friend.  Maybe I’m lost.   Just feeling a little sad. I just really need to say that. This is part of the whole. Ugh, I should be exercising. 

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This entry was published on June 4, 2015 at 8:01 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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