washing down metamucil with beer**

well hello there acquaintances i used to call friends but would not dare to assume such familiarity at this time!

i keep meaning to send you an email to apologize (really? apologize?) for not staying in contact more. i don’t expect you still like me, even though i hope so.

i’ve been sad. and sad. and busy. but mostly sad. with short bouts of ‘what the fuck am i doing’ followed by sad. there have been brief moments of OH GOOD HEAVENS THANK GOODNESS and WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING? but for the most part, i have been glad when it’s foggy and cloudy; confused and a bit irritated when the sun came out.

and then i saw this really great guy. and he was all “rules? have there been any rules so far?” and since he is my husband of eight years, the last five months of it on the opposite coast as me, and since he said it with such honest sincerity, i actually feel better. shockingly so.

on therapy tuesday (how i wish i went on thursdays!), i shall overly discuss whether this means we are meant to be together, if we have too much invested to not work everything out immediately, or if it is just relief i feel at finally being truly honest with the man i’m married to. (he thinks i look into things too deeply.)

not the first time i’ve heard something like that.

speaking of, can we talk about how much dithering i have done over whether or not i should publish this particular bit of inconsequence? christ on a crucifix. i do over-think things.

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**does this title have anything to do with the contents of this post? only if you drink a beer after a metamucil dose…after a beer…before a glass or two of wine…after a vodka tasting…with tequila. meaning gets very fuzzy at this particular point in the cycle.