Somewhere other than laundry day.

Tell her that you love her.

So much to do.

So little time.

Today Santa gets to vacate the basement to greet the neighborhood until New Year's day.

My house needs more lights.

Higher lights.

Like.

Off the ground and on the roof.

Hubs said no.

But.

Maybe.

On the roof of the patio cover?

Heh.

Oh yeah baby.

It's gonna happen.

Selfish Me

I love my husband, really I do.

But recently I found myself thinking of the "standards" set by whoever got to set them.

Why is it that it is expected that married couples live together?

Why would it be considered to be outrageous for married couples to live alone with visits from their significant other?

I completely understand where it would be beneficial to live under the same roof.

Maybe they could each have their own room for better sleep at night.

We all know that we sleep better when there's not a snoring moose next to us.

Maybe you are the moose.

I don't know.

But I feel that there is a bit of one's self that gets lost or taken for granted by the other marriage participant.

Maybe you are the one taking advantage.

I don't know.

You do.

I often think of how I'd love to have my own little apartment.

Where if the dishes are in the sink and dirty it's because of me.

If I come home and the house is still clean because nobody came in and dirtied it up...then ahhhh. Paradise is mine.

The dirty dish raccoon would be at his house cleaning his own dishes and putting them back where they belong.

Not me.

Yes, I'm feeling a bit selfish at the moment.

Dreaming of my own one bedroom apartment.

A small 19 inch TV of my own.

A recliner where I could crochet until I fell asleep.

Wake and go get into my bed for a solid night's sleep.

Then the next day I can enjoy a date with my husband.

Love him.

Kiss him.

Then send him home to his dirty apartment to snore tiles off the walls.

Please

It hasn't rained in quite a while.

Starting to bum me out.

Everything is dusty.

Everywhere.

All over town.

We need some rain.

Please.

Paroxetine

Paroxetine.

Paroxetine keeps me home.

Keeps me from leaving my husband.

Leaving to wander the continent in an RV with my dogs and my CD's.

Paroxetine helps me keep a clean house.

Most days at least.

Paroxetine keeps me from having explosions of anger.

Anger that even though I know at the time is unjustified I am still mad.

Paroxetine keeps the obsessive thoughts at bay.

Mostly they are thoughts of how I made poor choices as a young adult.

That is what most young adults do.

Mostly.

Paroxetine helps me be grateful for insurance.

Insurance that pays for expensive meds that help me be stable and sensible.

Medications that help me see the beauty in the world.

Help me tell my loved ones how much I love them on a daily basis.

Paroxetine.

I prefer it...

Some days you want to say something.

Make a statement.

Get uninfluenced honest opinions.

Facebook is not the place for that in my opinion.

That feed is often full of insincere comments.

Support in the name of guilt.

You know what I mean.

"Well that person is an immediate family member so I HAVE to like this statement even if I have absolutely no idea what they are talking about."

No pity or guilt opinions here please.

Give it to me straight.

I can handle it and actually, it is preferred.

Thanks!

The Rain

I adore the rain.

I spent many of my infant months in my crib listening to it rain.

My family was military and we were living on a tropical island.

And it rained.

I adore the rain.