Today’s one of those Monday holidays which I spent the middle of at the introvert’s nightmare — potluck full of people I don’t really know, and more importantly don’t really care to get to know (BA humbug!) held in honor of a loud mouth bore who happens to be moving to Denver. But I got to talk bees and saplings and implements for working clay soil, then escaped, and then made my way to a big grocery store that has a Starbucks/seating area where I will drink my half calf heavy cream whipped cream sober treat and plug in my earphones and sink into work on the laptop.

This large grocery store has a liquor section and Wolfie thought that after the coffee we could perhaps go over there and pick up something to continue celebrating day 200. Er yeah, maybe, what??

I’m amazed at how the prospect of turning the counter back to 1 holds no sway over him. I used to think it did, because in the brighter spaces of my mind I do look with horror at the idea of starting over again. Very much so. But in the moment of craziness when W. takes the steering wheel desperate for beer, nope. Going back to 1 is as easy as stepping on an ant. I wish it was a lever I could wield in the moment, but it’s not, and I’m glad I’m wise to that.

Happy day 200 to me. So glad to watch that odometer turn over! I’m feeling good and smooth, and also really just plodding, plodding, day by day. Trying to hold steady. Not making any sudden movements. Like changing the little set of supplements I take for mood and hot flashes, which aren’t cheap and may not all be necessary. But I’ll do some experimenting with that … at a later date. Maybe 423.

Yours in happy plodding.


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