Fickle...

I love that word, fickle, describing perfectly my mood and rhyming with pickle which makes it a-ok in my book.

{My book, probably not so read worthy huh?}

Today, I have numerous thoughts but not much to say.

{Does that makes sense?}

Seeing as how most of my readers are women I image it does.  {wink}

I am unsettled… I am plucking thoughts from my mind’s attic and tossing them into the stream of reflection that is flowing through so viciously as we speak.  Problem is – my raft seems to have a few holes in it.

Oh crud, where did those paddles go?

Am I depressed?  Naw, I don’t have time for that.  Denial however, is my constant companion.  {smirk}

I prefer to think of it as mentally unreliable or perhaps, unpredictably competent… Shorting out… bruised?  You like that better?

Either way, I’m still functioning with a smile; for now.

What happens when you get to the point where things just aren’t right and your mind and/or body won’t stand for it anymore?  Well, not the way it’s going anyway.  Do you make that change?  That is to say if you can figure out what precisely that alteration {quite possibly altercation} is that will or needs to be made?

Ahh… fickle!

Do you stand for it?  I’ve been doing that.  Nothing is so wrong in my world I just believe that with age comes wisdom and well… age.  {snicker}

My body isn’t handling things the way it’s youthful {never graceful} self once did.  I am most certainly still super woman.

 make no mistake.

However, my cape is torn and others are beginning to notice the hand-sewn patches on it.

I sold three rings and a necklace yesterday.  Sad secret?  I didn’t even realize my shops were still open.  {long sigh}  You know, those shops that are my therapy, my happy and my fulfillment until I somehow publish and get that ranch we’re all escaping too. {grin}

I like to work.  I don’t mind if I’m working elbow deep with others around me or simply cleaning toilets.  Work is work.  But isn’t this life meant to be enjoyed?  Am I one to give up dreams, that I’ve buried somewhere in the sand, so that I might just survive in the current of others doing the same thing?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful for the work and the job but at what expense?

What am I teaching my Pidglets?  Work, eat, sleep…wash rinse and repeat?  That’s not how I pictured it… that’s not how I used to be.

Do my Pidglets lack a work ethic because I do it all?  Wait, I thought I was teaching by example.  Can you really get things right?

Or do we just get things done roughly well?

Or do I teach them unevenly; coarse at best?

Huh?  I thought you said something…. {wink}

I think we’ve had this discussion.

I think I decided to make changes and then I somehow allowed others to string me up by my deep sense of loyalty and obligation.  I definitely remember a conversation where I said I was going to invest in me.

Yah well, I do believe I lied.

OH!  And get this… I had a doctor appointment… that turned into 3 more.  I’m not ready to dive into all of that just yet; as I said, I am rationally challenged at this time.  {the terms just keep getting better huh?}

I’ll worry if they tell me it’s time; however, that defies one of the doctor’s orders in itself.

I think it’s time to stop white water rafting in the rapids of uncertainty.

 

I’m thinking that perhaps, I’ve given the paddles of my boat to others.

I’m crafting a theory that I might just have to swim back to shore.  After all, I do enjoy land, and ground beneath me feet; something I can stand on, count on and a steady course of trudging opposed to paddling with your hands.  Wait… something was buried in that sand as well huh?

I do love surprises.  {grin}

Hey, my Po and Pidglets know how to swim… I admit I may have to hand out a few floaties to get us there though.

So, I’ll function, survive and head into my craft room if you don’t mind… my therapist is waiting… {smirk}

Over and Out,

loves,

Pidg♥