Just a note to tell y'all that what Hemingway called the Black Dog is camped on my doorstep. Reality has hit me square in the face and I may have to go to war. I'm not certain what my next move is but I'm going to have to do something so I can survive. When one is dealing with bureaucrats, it isn't easy. I pray that y'all will never, ever have to do so.
I'm too damned old to deal with this crap and it's making me nuts -- or is that nuttier? A couple so-called friends have added to the deterioration of my mental state and needless to say it hasn't helped. The nice thing about difficult times is that you realize who your true friends are and many thanks to those of you in the Blogosphere who have been wonderfully supportive.
I've been doing a lot of thinking and reading to try to put life back on an even keel. I haven't written here because I hate being a drama queen. Believe it or not, housework is good therapy; getting organized and clearing clutter is good for the soul. Sleeping is good, too, when I can manage it. I've also been listening to a lot of old music and will share some with y'all soon.
Here's a song that touched my heart the moment I heard it back in '75 when Janis won a Grammy for it and still tears me up today -- the more thing change, they more they stay the same. Sigh. It probably explains why I stopped going to my high school reunions. Probably that my life feels so insecure is making the old insecurities surface. Sighhhhhhhh.
And never fear. The Friday Groaner will be here in the morning!