For The Record...

I am not in a crappy head space any more.

It could have been the conversation with Branli or the short story I started. Either way, I am a-okay today. I think it was the apple I ate at four thirty in the morning. It made me queasy at first and yet wiped out my froggy head...that's foggy and groggy rolled into one.

I am making a conscious effort to eat when I wake up, trying to kick-start Ye Olde Metabolism. Hence the apple. I love apples. I've eaten one a day since the beginning of time. Well, not really the beginning of time. But at least for a couple years now.

The doctor says I have a lazy thyroid. Well...she actually had a more medical term for it. She said that if I wasn't vegan I would be as big as a house. Well, she didn't say it like that. But it was implied. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to use the word heifer but didn't have the heart. Why can't my thyroid be hyper and allow me to eat whatever I damn well please, whenever I please, with whomever I please?

Because it's difficult. Not unlike the rest of me. I bet my kids are going to be difficult. Or, as I like to put it, opinionated. Which is a nice way of saying stubborn. You'll all laugh at me when I have kids. I can see you sitting back with your arms crossed snickering at my efforts to raise the infants with my hair and bad attitude.

To be honest, I have been thinking about kids lately. More so, I've been thinking I would be a wonderful mom. I think I could impart on them the years of wisdom I have lived through and spare them from making the same mistakes I did. Of course, they will reject my wise words and make the mistakes anyways. Although, I didn't make my parents' mistakes. For one, I've never smoked a cigarette.

Some classic mistakes I made:

Not going to school for a post secondary education. Now I only have my looks to fall back on and those are quickly going down the tube.

Staying with a few boyfriends when I should have cut loose sooner. I think this is just being young and dumb. Lots of people do this. But the time I wasted really bothers me. I try not to dwell on it.

Sending out a zillion queries on my first book when it wasn't ready. I can't really take that back and I am certain I'm on at least twenty agents' hit lists.

Agreeing to be Charlie Brown in an elementary school production. I think this has followed me throughout my years. Sometimes when I catch people staring at me on public transit I think it's because they recognize me from wearing that stupid propeller beanie hat and acting like a moron.

I would have rewrote the play I penned in High School. I could still do this now. But I am lazy. Lazier than lazy. The laziest of them all.

I would have never visited what's his name in jail. A little something is taken out of you when you see a loved one behind Plexiglas in an orange jumper. It's a heartbreak I didn't need at seventeen.

Oh, yeah. I would proofread my blog. Now it's just gotten out of hand and would take too much work to fix. It's sort of like the wild dogs people keep chained up in their backyard. They want to tame them, but are afraid of getting too close.

I think kids are in my future, whether they be adopted or pushed forth from my vagina. I just don't know when. Or how. Well...I know HOW. Though I must say, the thought of a baby ripping out of me isn't something that comforts me at night. Do you think this is my biological clock? Or is it just ramblings from a girl in Canada?

Shrugs.

This was just an FYI that I was back in a decent frame of mind. The first line is the only important one. I should erase this and start again. But, like I said before, I'm lazy.

These are marzipan babies. And they creep me out.