ahhhhhhhhhh

I carry around my stress. I obsess on my stress. When I cannot control the source of the stress, I twist my brain inside-out to make sense of it. I have mentioned lately that it was all becoming too much. Too much unresolved from past relationships nagging at me. Too much from work that is either beyond my control or in the name of "taking one for the team" I was enduring insults to my dignity. It was balling up into something very very scary.

And, then it erupted. I became a puddle of slobbering, burping, foul-smelling, whining monkey mess. Oh, and there was the ritual spewing of bodily fluids. (TMI, I know . . . but I'm usually such a well-contained monkey, I felt it worth adding in to demonstrate just how ugly it all got.)

And, then I faked being healthy enough to bundle my little pink monkey butt onto an air plane and took off for a quickie visit to the city I love most in the world.

In NOLA, I found healing. I found comfort and peace and relaxation. I stopped spewing. I laughed. I let my brain take a break from its puzzling. I saw so many of the places I feel a connection to, and I'm now right with the world again. (And, having been awakened from a nap in Jackson Sq. by the sounds of Ave Maria and bolting up thinking I had died and gone to heaven . . . I'm relieved to learn I didn't die and am a little surprised (and a lot pleased) to see that heaven was the first option.)

Even if I didn't play the lotto, win a 100 million bucks, and our dream house got bought by someone else. That one, I screwed up.