Easter Sunday, “YES YES YES” I convinced Alan to take Jack and Fiona to peets. The babies would NOT take their nap. This is the FIRST TIME I’ve had the house to myself. I have to speed type. It’s 9:05AM, the first thing I do is grab my Sunshine and fill her up. The second thing I say is “FUCK the Haters” sorry if that sounds krass. I started writing this piece trying to explain how I got here. (Erased it all) I live in Marin in a house, I didn’t start off here. I started at the bottom and so did my husband. I’m just an artist who worked retail my whole life. That’s it. I’m the same person I’ve always been, but waaaayyyyy cooler. It’s like I lost all my street cred when I got married. I’ve been accused of not being a feminist anymore, of not being punk rock anymore, of, (now this is my interpretation of course) “Living a traditional Marin Normal Lifestyle” Whatever the fuck that means. Like I think that’s better or they think it’s better than????? I don’t know. Ah that felt good. “Fuck’ Em”. Am I aloud to cuss on the internet? Can the title of my piece be Fuck Em? Easter Sunday. That sounds very anti-religious. “No offense”, that phrase doesn’t mean anything on the internet, in fact saying “no offense” means I probably already offended someone. Not on purpose, never on purpose but out of ignorance, absent mindedness or simple mistake of word choice. Because that’s all the internet is, just words. From random people. But these words are taken so seriously. I’m meandering. I realize I’m treading in very dangerous waters in many oceans. That’s who I am. Family, painting and writing. The End
Category: emotion
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I need to get alone time with each of the babies, especially Fiona to work with her language skills. I’m feeling really tired, starting to stress. I question the office visits and whether I was right to stop taking the pills. Dr.Scott said, “You should take Prozac.” He is my old OBYGN, I felt red in the face and mad. I thought he was being sexist. Then a year later, my new female doctor says the same thing. I’ve only taken them for 6 months. I am against pills. But when I started taking them my body was feeling physical pain. Broken uterus. Thought I was broken. Thought I had uterine cancer. Ovarian cancer. Was going to die, my fibroids were going to burst out of my belly. All the tests came back fine. Started taking Zoloft. PMS disappeared. But I don’t want to take anti-depressants forever so I had to stop taking them cold turkey. I had to make the decision and stick with it. So today as I’m feeling tired and in pain I start to question all my decisions. Or Am I just tired? Or somewhere in between? I’ve told very few people. The only light on in the house is my computer screen. I’m alone in the dark typing. Alan is not home from work yet, the babies are asleep. They went crazy tonight when I took off all the cushions and made crash landing pads on the floor. I was right about that pollen, it’s thick. The crows are back, cawing. The monitor is quiet, I have the right one this time. It’s hard to imagine now that the past four days I had boundless energy. Today I crashed. When Ramona arrived I laid down on my bed trying to figure out what I could cancel today. I decide to take Billy for a walk. Bugs were all around us. I brushed her coat first. Thick chunks of fluffy, black, fur flew onto the ground that still has pieces of Zappas poop. It was the first time we were up at the dog house since Zappa died. I had to get the brush. We walked on the trail, no other people around, no raccoon incidents. I had to remind myself to stop, take a deep breath, count to ten, inhale-exhale, when the thoughts come in, I let them pass through gracefully and exit my mind. This works, my body relaxes, especially my neck and shoulders. Then when I get back I decided to take Fiona with me on my lunch date. She seemed so happy and was a perfect little angel.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 