It’s amazing what four hours sleep and some industrial strength coffee can do for a woman.
Sorry about yesterday’s blog post.
I can’t bear to look at it now. Who is that whinging, self-indulgent woman?
Was it Rosemary?
the mild mannered telephonist?
Was it Spot?
the janitor’s cat?
Was it Hong Kong Phooey himself:
or was it a hormonal, crazy ass woman masquerading as a human being?
Hormones are bastards..
Can’t live with them, and it’s not much fun without them. Either way those hormones will get you every time
Glad that little crisis is over.
xox
Ros
I am being held hostage by mine this week.
Sharon
Me too. Still a bit Bambi on ice today, but much better
Katy – I just read this poem from another delicious blogger’s website (www.29blackstreet.blogspot.com – she, too, was having a hellacious Wednesday) and thought you would enjoy it as well
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Rumi
Vivian
What a fantastic poem. Thank you so much for thinking of me.xx