Rambling at it's finest

    For whatever reason it did feel good to let the cat out of the bag last night and confess all is not great. It's been interesting. Ever since my ultimate failure, due to divine intervention/prevention, I've been unable to discuss it other then to myself in private journal and written paper. Right before me the changes struggled and fought for, were eliminated.  Woohooo boohoo for me. Damn worn out song. But, I do feel alittle free tonight.
    
    Today I felt alittle anger, and thats probably a good thing. When all else fails, get pissed, watch out world, I'm on a rampage. I slapped alittle attitude attire on, the only thing I was missing today was a Harley and some leather chaps. I just don't think I could do the whole leather halter top though, that may be pushing it a bit. Then again, a little leather top might be just the ticket for an overall makeover. I would need some serious Victoria Secret help for such an item. Jump click.
 
    The beautiful thing is I'll wake tomorrow and hopefully some of this attitude has made it past the insomnia of night. I am the queen of lack of sleep. I've decided peaceful rest is the reward for having a clear conscience. Awake. Wake. Tomorrow. The glorious sensation of rest. Tylenol P.M. Now, is this rambling mind captions on the road to a wreck or what. Woohoo I promise there is an end. Tomorrow.
 
    My irises are traitors. That may be what tipped me off this morning. Every year I plant a few bulbs in my yard. I call them my yearly reminders. They are beautiful, delicate, not perfectly symmetrical, with little rough edges, they are me. Mine are blooming. They are not supposed to be bloomed out right now. This is a traitorous act of defiance. I jumped in my car and drove around my neighborhood. I needed confirmation. Nope, nadda, nothing, all the other irises in the neighborhood are not out shining their beautiful colors. I'm not ready for them to greet me at the door. They have never bloomed this early. Rather creepy in my opinion. Or, like my earlier remark, traitors.

       Since I'm awake, at the beginning of my oh so fun insomnia, and it's pitch darkout, I won't attempt a picture for visual proof, but tomorrow, I'll add one to this entry. Who's the horticulturist out there? Iris in April/in Idaho? I need explanation.

       I did send out a blatant request for a sign today, and thankfully, even if briefly, a sign was sent. It provided needed relief. Relationship repair, stage one, under construction.

       Quirky musings, that would be this evening. On a more important note, I would like to say thank you to all the amazing encouraging comments I've received. Tammy Life, live it or miss out , said it in the nicest of ways, "Group therapy at it's finest." A shrink at a 100 bucks an hour couldn't rival this group!
      
       Ok, one more note, since I tossed it in my entry last night without much explanation and have received a few email questions about it. About the epilepsy, it really is not a big deal in my life. I do not have grand mal seizures like some unfortunate people do. I have small kickin chicken (again, if you have a condition, you get the added bonus of avoiding politically correct jargen> episodes. It's controlled most of the time, with a daily dose of meds., bring on the electrolytes!  I avoid things that are my personal triggers, alcohol is a big one, and ironically, lack of sleep is another. It's something I've had for a long time.

       I've only had my drivers license taken away once by a cruel neurologist. I remember laughing when this doctor explained to me the left brain lobe is where my malfunction is located. I told him "Hell that explains a lot!" When I have explained the location of my electrical malfunction, people often ask how in the world I know this.
      
       Well, you see, this is what they do to torture us with seizures. They insist on something called an ambulatory EKG. Meaning, they glue hundreds of electrodes to your scalp, wrap your head up, with "protective bandages," so you look like a cone head, or someone who just suffered a horrific head injury, click the wires into a portable computer and send you home for a week. Showerless, and mortified to go anywhere in public, it's all part of the fun. This little computer downloads all your brain waves for a week or so, mapping of sorts. When things start to go haywire, the computer captures your seizure on record and presto, they know what form of epilepsy you have. Technology, what a beautiful thing.

This concludes the central nervous system class for the evening, may all your mind rhythms be connected properly.