Monthly Archives: April 2012

Fifteen minutes straight writing…begin…right…now.

Tonight’s #dsma was intruded upon by a Paleo fanatic perpetuating myths about T2 diabetes and carb intake and remission and shit. So not cool. (At least he didn’t say the “c” word – cure, right? Ugh.)

A couple things I later tweeted:

Extremists in food philosophy can bite me. Respect my choices that bring me health, I’ll respect yours.

Don’t pay attention to what others say you should/shouldn’t eat. Everyone has to decide for themselves (Paleo, vegetarian, vegan, etc etc).

Off healthy eating soapbox.

***

At a crossroads. Lots of decisions need to be made in the next few weeks. Dealing with it in the usual Rachel way – procrastinating by focusing on less meaningful stuff. Okay, so reading isn’t meaningless, it just distracts me from what I need to be doing.

Insomnia is back, which doesn’t help. (Maybe because I’m procrastinating on big decisions? Or did I get mildly addicted to Benadryl after two weeks of hive control?)

My family is awesome. I used to have a hard time saying that, but the birthday cards this year? All around, perfect. Gives me a little push out of the procrastination.

Especially the words of my sister’s card (from Carlton Cards):

“Believe in the power of wishes, hopes, and hugs. That small things can be mighty, and big ideas can be reality. That anything is possible. And most of all… Believe in yourself. I know I do. You’re a great sister, and I hope this year is really happy for you.”

(Of course, drawings from two-and-a-half-year-olds warm the heart, too.)

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes straight writing…begin…right…now.

I had more to say last week. To write, to explore. Not much this week, and so begins another edition of “the rambly fifteen”.

Watching the D-1 women’s basketball championship. Kind of hoping for a Notre Dame upset, which is a strange concept. The part about wanting Notre Dame to win, I mean.

There’s some study out this week that says 33 is the perfect age for happiness. Ha. Other than my twin nieces being born, 33 was a pretty rough year. A major health scare of another family member, my own emergency open abdominal surgery and a five-day hospital stay, then finding out that my reproductive system was/is a hot mess and knowing I’d need another open surgery to clean up what couldn’t be done during the first one.

That being said, I am holding out hope that 36 is a great year when I turn that age in a mere six days. That it will be the year of awesome. I deserve that after a few years of suck. Right?

I wrote some crappy poetry tonight amidst the pizza-and-wine routine I partake in every week or two. What can I say, National Poetry Month brings out the crappy poet in me.

I wrote some crappy poetry, and I’m writing this rambly blog post. When I should be working on my résumé. Getting some cold feet about such a big move, though. Which makes me wonder about those hives being stress-related.

After a week of those hives, I think the itching and scratching is finally over now that none of that has happened for 48 hours. Avoidance of ibuprofen is now of utmost importance until I can confirm with an allergist. Or dermatologist. Not sure which I should see when I am ready to confirm that sort of information. Again, it could all be stress-related.

Snow is over and spring will return tomorrow. As a friend said, I see the snow as flame-retardant against wildfires…