the best medicine

i am happy to state that i received 543 text messages today all from the same person. they all said the same thing: 'i hate you'. though i was encouraged by these words, i was also a little flustered and wondered who would send this to me. there are a few, maybe 3, people who i think could possibly hate me - they tend to hold a grudge, judge and eat fudge. (i dont have proof about the fudge part, but it seems logical). ~but i dont think the texts were from any of those people. if this had happened 10 or so days ago, i might have been so overwhelmingly upset that i would have had to leave work and locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. --i just tell things they way they are, folks. its all i can do.

i often tell people that i refuse to be fake. with me, what you see is what you get.

well, that isnt always entirely true. being completely real means being very vulnerable. im a little to guarded these days to be all that vulnerable - but i still want to be real-ish.

my life-long fight against anxiety and depression is something that i really dont talk too much about, but something that is a very... well... real part of who i am. sometimes i look for things -other than meds - that might help. sometimes i dont have the energy to look very hard.

i have considered changing my diet in hopes that if i eat better i will feel better, and i may still do that, but im a cook, yall. i cook. thats what cooks do. ~and i like to cook things that im good at cooking, new styles and diets are not something i am really keen on trying. like vegan. or vegetarian. i like to eat steak. i like to eat pastries. they are good for me.

i have considered exercising, but people get hurt doing that. sprained ankles and strained hamstrings are not so much my cup-a-tea either. so i will walk my dog. but not every day. lets not get out of control here.

i have decided that sometimes, laughter really is the best medicine.

so lets talk about that:

my husband was teasing me about something the other day and i said "shoot. why you always gotta be hatin' on me?" he said, "i wasnt hatin on you", to which my daughter replied, "yes you were, dad. youre always hatin' on mom." ~its good to have her on my side.

in a related story,

this morning, my son came in to wake me up and i said "oh hi! good morning baby boy!" and he happily answered "good morning baby momma" ~ and that was that.

so, what you can learn from my children is that my kids' dad is hatin on my son's baby momma.

...and so is some mystery texter from the 405.