To compensate for the emotional taxation of the last post, I have decided to tell you guys what I have on the stove right now. Sorry, no pictures, because I’m feeling lazy, but trust me, it’s not particularly glamorous looking. It smells like fricking heaven though.
No, no. I want to talk about it. I should talk about it. Talking about it makes it easier to forget about it. And besides, there are probably people who wonder to themselves on occasion, “Why is Lauren such a bitch?” & this might make interesting reading for them. Or not. Like I care.
I do believe that my life, or God, or the Evil Alien Lords have a plan for me. I do. And when certain things manifest in my life in such a way that it smells sort of like a message, I try to be cooperative or at least vigilant. Last month my anticipated term of caregiving came to an end when my grandmother, who I had expected to hang on for several more years, let go. Since then I’ve been more or less adrift, disoriented & bewildered at the suddenness with which my life has apparently been returned to me. And then last night someone told me that Brad got married.
Who ever gets pissed off about which table they got seated on at someone’s wedding?
1. People who have never planned their own wedding & have NO IDEA how hard it is to do the seating arrangements.
2. People who feel that this wedding isn’t about the people getting married; it’s about THEM.
3. People who are looking for something to be pissed off about.
If you’re not there because you’re happy about those two people getting married, then do everyone a favor & stay the fuck home.