Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

I'm back at square one, with nobody knowing what is wrong with me, and therefore unable to help. I've been put on amitriptyline to help me get some rest at night; unfortunately, it is making me groggy during the day as well. I'm being referred to an ENT specialist, a back specialist, and possibly another neurologist because the first one was - I don't even have words for what he was.

The possibility of my going back to work on modified hours is now looming over me, and I am actually happy about it for the most part. Mentally I need this. I need not only to have something new and outside of myself to focus on, but I need to feel useful. I need to contribute. I'm not the type that likes to sit at home and feel sorry for myself. I am frustrated, yes. I am exasperated, yes. I have been doing my utmost to refrain from complaints because, frankly, complaints aren't worth anybody's time. And they don't get you very far. There are people out there in much greater need of help than I am - I am not so self-centered as to believe the world must spin around me and my worries. Whether I am physically ready for this is another story altogether, but I am nothing if not tough.

In the meantime, the bellows of my lungs continue to pump air through my body, although sometimes they falter. The little muscles and valves in my heart click and pull and do the job they are meant to do, pumping life through me, again only pausing for a break now and again. I keep convincing myself that one day I will wake up, fully functioning, and looking at this as some horrific dream. And every morning, I trick myself into it, until little by little it all comes crashing down. All the king's horses...

Damien Rice is pretty good at just rending your heart into little bitty pieces.

Buck and Doe this weekend. I'm getting things ready for it. I've sent the response to the wedding invite out - it's on the same day as my Dad's birthday, and as they're invited too this should prove amusing.

I sort of have my speech planned in my head - it's a matter of getting it all down on paper and accosting a captive audience.

Brownies tonight - last one of the year, and because it's cruddy out they're having it at the hall again rather than the park. Oh well, c'est la guerre, right?

I've had a lot going on in my head lately. Things that I haven't thought about in years are surfacing, and begging me to write it all down. And I have, but not here. Probably never here. Some things just shouldn't be. It's almost cathartic, this process of releasing the little bones that make up one big skeleton.

K is loving soccer, and was all sad that it got cancelled last night due to the rainstorms. Mostly because S missed last week's first game due to work, and K was looking forward to his daddy being around for this one.

Summer is fast approaching, and I don't feel ready for it. I turn 31 this year, which is a pittance compared to some, but dinosaur-like in status to others. I haven't brought up my birthday with anyone close to me - I'm secretly hoping it just passes quietly.