Manic Monday

I hate Mondays with a stinking passion. After two days of sleeping late, doing what I want to do and not having to dress up, I really hate having to get back in the "Work" mode. It sucks the big one.

SO, I got my hair done. I FREAKING LOVE IT!!!! Cut a little off the bottom so it is pretty much even with my ears now, really short!!! It's just so freaking hot here, that I figure the less hair, the better. It's red and 2 shades of blonde. It's the freaking bomb! I have the best hairdresser in the world. She makes me laugh in addition to giving me great hair. Someone said that if everything is going to go wrong with me, at least I still have good hair. AMEN, sista!!

So, I have a very dear friend who went through breast cancer and had a double mastectomy. She told me today that I needed to start writing down all my feelings and thoughts, frustrations, and worries. So, I figure what a better place to do it than on here, right? I mean, I am not going to tell you all every one of my problems. You'd run from your computer screaming like a banshee. But a few of them won't hurt me. If you don't want to read it, you don't have to. I think I started this more for myself than for anything else. I have a new problem to add to my long list of already problems. Raynaud's Syndrome. Basically, my feet are turning purple and they are cold to the touch even though the rest of me is really hot. It's brought on by emotional stress. Now let's think about this, has anything happened recently that could cause me to have emotional stress??? Funny, isn't it? Now, there are a couple of you who might be mad at me for not telling you this over the phone, so let me explain. I have very few "really good friends". I have a lot of friends, but not ones that I feel a lifelong connection with. I probably have 5 really great people that I am blessed to call friends and only 2 of them know about this new problem. 2 of you live a really long way away and you already feel so bad that you weren't here for "the big event" that I just hate to add to it. And the last one, you are so dad gumm busy that I hate to add to your problems. So, consider this my way of telling you. I also have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I am having flashbacks, nightmares, whatever (the anesthesiologists say that it is my subconscious trying to remember) of being on the ventilator not being able to breathe and freaking plum out. So, now I am officially crazy. I don't want to be alone because I am afraid that it will happen again and this time the outcome will be different. But, if anyone looks at me or talks to me, you would think that I am the happiest person in the world, because of the wonderful acting that I do. I deserve a freaking Emmy for all my performances. Here, it's been three months and people are still flabbergasted at how well I am doing, they are so glad that I am alive and they have just been so worried. I can't go anywhere without someone saying something along those lines. It drives me crazy. "Oh, honey it is so good to see you alive and doing so well. How are you feeling?" yada, yada, yada. Just makes me want to curl in the fetal position and hide.

OK, enough of this sad and depressing shit. Can you cuss in a blog? Wouldn't know. Kim, help me out.... I know you are trying to cut back on your cussing, but come on. You, not cuss?? I have known you forever and I just don't see it working..... You know I love ya, sista!

Sheesh, I have wrote a lot today. Well, writing is good for the soul. Or so they say. Love to all and Peace Out!!