Notes from under the bed….

I just looked and saw that my last update was September 3rd, 17 days ago….more than two weeks ago. I have been thinking about my blog, and about the commitment I wanted to make to post at least four or five times a week, but the truth is I haven’t written mostly just because I didn’t want to.
I did have my Facet Block, but it ended up being last Tuesday, instead of the prior Thursday, and it was an incredibly painful procedure and a difficult one to recover from. Today (a week later) is the first day I haven’t woken up with a massive headache or praying someone would just save me and chop my head off because my neck was killing me. I’m still pretty tender and the back of my right hand still has a really gorgeous bruise from the IV, but I’m alive, in one piece and grateful I am not in as much pain as I was four days ago.
When I am, however, in that painful place, I think about all sorts of things. I’m forever telling my d.h. that it’s noisy in here. I think about things I have read, or wrote, or learned in college. I think about current world politics, the way established religions war over ideas with each other, and I think about stuff in WoW. I am in a constant state of confused over so much that I am surrounded with in the world, so when I’m sitting on the sofa shaking from the pain, I escape into my head and think about things I’ll probably never understand.
For example, I have found huge examples of selfishness lately, but just when I think that the world is simply filled with thoughtless, selfish people I hear “oh, yeah, I’ve been thinking about you/wondering how you are/reading your blogs” and I find out I matter a lot more than maybe I thought I did. 
I have a hard time taking up time and space. The outrageous Cris is really just a facade. And every time I find out that someone thinks about me and notices when I don’t blog/tweet/facebook it floors me. I keep looking at the world around me and thinking ‘love me, love me, love me!!!’….and every once in a while, it whispers back (usually just when I need it the most) “I do”.

Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?

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