Sitting because I find myself, well, just sitting through my cameos for the past few months.
Though I’m smiling here (really have no choice since I have no jawline or high cheekbones), I still feel sad over the cutting of this tall and elegant palm, which I planted more than a decade ago.
Though raglan is usually associated with baseball and softball, there is certainly nothing soft about contemplation.
I almost didn’t get out of bed this morning because I just didn’t feel like it.
Sometimes I think overthinking has its toll – that being bipolar is more about the body and brain’s way of forcing my head to rest and relax after all the gnashing and gnawing.
But I don’t think I’ll ever give it up. Chemical imbalance be damned! (Sorry, but I have less sympathy for those who are not intellectually strong enough to deal with depression and mood swings.)
Who says psychological misfits aren’t our genetic pools’ way of evolving?