Laundry

I just finished putting away three loads of laundry.  I love the smell of clean laundry.  It's all warm and cozy and ... smells nice.  I like it when things smell nice.  I also like having clean underwear and socks and things.  And you know when your pillow case smells like dryer sheets and you smile a happy smile as you drift off to sleep, thinking of sheep and fluffy teddy bears?  No?  Just me?  Ok, then.

You know what else I like?  NOT BEING CRAZY.  I've totally been taking that for granted for most of my life.  See, a couple of months ago I start taking birth control because I had this weird notion that it would be good for me and my hoo-ha (you know, down there) and would help "regulate things" (I'm talking about my MENSTRUAL CYCLE, menfolk).  What do I get instead?  A whole bucket of fucking crazy.  I'm talking insomnia, panic attacks, crazy-bananas-thoughts, more anxiety and just for fun, a dash of insatiable hunger.  It was not fun, to say the least.  Clearly my brain cannot handle any sort of hormonal change and my Crazy Tree and I become one for time. 

My hair is doing this weird helmet thing now that I'm growing it out.
Also, I'm too lazy to color in that whole tree.  Deal with it.

Last week -- once it finally dawned on me why I was slowly turning into a lunatic -- I dug a hole in the backyard, popped each little pill out of the blister pack, set them all on fire, then buried the ashes in the hole.  Then I peed on it.  And set that on fire.

(None of that is true.  I just threw them away in a trash can at the mall, but I would have done something more extreme had I the time.)

(Maybe not the peeing part.)

(Though, if I had done it I could have just blamed it on "being crazy.")

I am finally feeling better and more like myself again.  As I'm sure I've mentioned, I tend to run on happy and anything less than that is always disconcerting.  I've only been off the wee spawns of satan for a few days so I think it's going to take some time before deciding what to watch on Netflix doesn't make me break into a sweat, but I'm sleeping now and you know, running happier, so I've got that going for me.

All joking aside, I am astounded at the affect such a tiny, seemingly insignificant pill can have on a person.  It's a bit terrifying, really.  Perhaps had I stayed on it a bit longer I would have normalized and become one with the pill instead of the tree, but I couldn't wait it out.  Never again, man.  I'll either have lots and lots of babies or continue down the path I'm on now, which is never, ever, ever having sex.  Seems to be working for me.

(That is also a lie.  It sucks.)

The good thing about all that crazy up there is that it seemed to hit me all at once and mostly AFTER my wonderful, amazing, perfect vacations came to an end.  I think the Crazy was lurking right beneath the surface, lying in wait to spring at the most inopportune time possible, but if I can pat my brain on the back for anything, it's for managing to stay in check long enough for me to get my vacation groove on.  (Vacation recap posts are coming up post-haste.)

Who's a good brain?  You're a good brain!

Now I will quickly sum up September's challenge and get on to talking about important stuff like this:

I wore this same outfit to work today.

September's challenge was to walk 100 miles.  I made it to 85.  I will walk the remaining 15 miles in October.  That is all.