Archive | October 2011

The Meaning of Dreams

Now, I’ve been having dreams about an ex for the past 15 years.  All of them have been around us getting back together.  At no time in the dreams of getting back with him am I happy or excited.  It’s always a sense of dread that I’m going back into this terrible relationship where I’m not happy, loved, and pretty much alone despite sharing a home with him.  A few months ago I dreamt that we were on the verge of reconnecting when I ran away to be with Benneth. Last night I had the most amazing dream about Doug.  I went to visit him.  We talked and laughed.  I saw his best friend again.  I told him I’m marrying Benneth.  When it was time to leave, I hugged him and said goodbye.  As I walked away, I had a tear in my eye and was able to recall the good things in our relationship…. some of the things I loved about him.  I compared him to Benneth and saw some similarities… and some things so very different.  I was able to love him for  just a moment for who he is and not hate him anymore.  What a beautiful moment!

It’s funny to me that I hardly ever dream about Ben.  He is such a part of my daily life in all ways.  I share every part of my life with him through my stories.  When I wake he is my first thought.  As I choose what to cook for dinner, I wonder if he’d like it and wish he were here to share it with me.  As I lay down to sleep, he is my very last thought as my eyes close.  Yet he isn’t in my dreams.

I wonder if there wasn’t room in my dreams for him yet because I was still working through my goodbyes with my ex?  Guess I’ll never know.  Will be interesting if I suddenly start having dreams about him!  Ben tells me dreams about me and us practically every day.  They are fun and sweet.  Most of them pretty routine things that happen in life.  Like I am so much a part of his life that he is never without a thought of me… awake or sleeping.  At times I have felt guilty that I don’t dream about him… as if not dreaming about him is saying he is not as important to me as I am to him.  This is so not true!    My commitment to him is immense and as close to perfect as I can ever get.

I am so very happy that I have finally said my goodbyes to Doug!  I have finally let go completely of all my guilt, shame, and blame around my relationship with him.  I have told him I’m moving on and am marrying the man I love… and who loves me so very much.  Today, I am very grateful for my dreams!



I know I’ve mentioned Oli before kind of in passing.  I’m feeling particularly loving towards my little furry housemate this morning.  I took her in about a year ago now.  I thought she was just a stray born in the complex that had never been a pet.  She came to my door and would stand up on her hind legs to look in at me and see what I was doing and “talk” to me.  I have this large rhododendron planter outside my door which I found her curled up in sleeping on more than a few occasions.  She was adopting me.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to take her in.  Such a big responsibility.  Am I really home enough to have a cat?  She was sooo cute though!  One day I decided to open the door and offer to let her come inside.  She was all about that!  Wandered around, sniffed everything, and finally settled down on the sofa cushion next to me.  That was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

I work odd hours due to the type of job I have.  They are consistent from week to week for six months at a time.  She ended up spending quite a bit of time alone. At first her reaction to me being gone was to come talk and talk and talk and demand that I just pet  her non-stop for a good 20 minutes.  After a few months of that she decided it wasn’t good enough.  She would greet me at the door by “yelling” at me for a good 10 minutes while I tried to coax her over to me so I could give her some good mama-kitty time.  Eventually she would come over and make me scratch her and give her lots of time and affection.  The day came that when she felt angry with me for leaving her, she peed on my leather sofa.   This pattern lasted for a while.  I was angry at her for nearly destroying my leather sofa and she was angry with me for not spending enough time with her.  She went outside and stayed there for about 4 weeks.  Oh, she’d come look in the door and talk to me, walk to my car with me every morning, and follow me to the mailbox each day…she just refused to come in the house.

With a little prodding and coaxing she started coming back in slowly.  A few minutes at a time and leaving quickly.  She was exerting her control.  After a week went by and she learned she could come and go as she wished, she chose to stay.  Now she is back to being my little love staying mostly in the house with me again.  She’s even begun to sleep with me again.

My neighbor, Brad, and I were sitting on our separate patios one morning chatting.  He told me the story of Oli.  Apparently the man who lived in the apartment on the other side of me had two little cats, Oli and her brother.  When he moved out of the complex he just left them.  My poor little kitty had been abandoned.  Then I understood why she would be upset with me for leaving her for long periods of time.    She was afraid I wasn’t coming back… and needed lots of reassurance when I got back that I love her and won’t desert her.  Hmmm… interesting that my cat and I have the same issues!  lol

Did I tell you how I came up with the name Oli?  Benneth is from the Igbo tribe and over the past 2 years I’ve been learning a little Igbo as I go.  I picked up a pocket dictionary on last year before I went to Nigeria.  Has been a fun little book to own.  🙂  Well, I wanted to give her an Igbo name with a meaning I liked.  My first choice was Obi, which means heart.  When I told Ben, he said we can’t have a cat named Obi.  His brother’s middle name is Obinna and the family calls him Obi for short.  Plus, he calls me Obiuto which means sweetheart.  Just won’t do for him.  We tried on different names and ideas.  I wanted to stay with a name sounding close enough to Obi that it wouldn’t confuse her.  Oli is was.  Oli means hope.  Seems an appropriate name for her.  I affectionately call her Olinaya.  Naya means love… so she’s hope + love.  Sweet.  At least I think so.

We have spent a quiet day around the house today… just kind of lounging and being together.  She did her early morning demands for food, scratches, and in/out.  After about an hour we both settled into a comfortable state of just being here.  She’s been snoozing on the sofa and I’ve been curled up in my favorite chair  under a blanket with a book.  What a nice day it’s been.  Rather than looking at today as yet another boring Sunday with nothing to do and no one to talk to, I put a positive reframe on it and am seeing it as quality mama-kitty time.  🙂

In Nigeria cats are seen as handmaiden’s of the devil.  An interesting perspective, I think.  How anyone can see a sweet and loving little cat as having anything to do with the devil’s work, I’ll never understand.  So when I told Ben I’d adopted the cat he wasn’t thrilled about her living in the house with me in the first place.  Then that she had his brother’s name was even more not OK.  Over the months, as I told him stories about her and talked about her all the time (as most proud mama’s do), he started asking me about her.  Then one day he pronounced his love for this little cat.  She knows when I am talking to him on the phone.  Since I first brought her into the house I would tell her I was talking to “Daddy”.  She meows and usually demands my attention, like any small child does, when I am involved in a conversation which doesn’t include her and seems to make me happy.  The three of us have fallen into somewhat of a routine.  Ben and I talk about Oli as if she is our child we are raising and training well.  She is a demanding child who wants attention while we are having our adult time.  And all three of us love one another.  Oli has not met Benneth, but she has certainly seen his face enough times that she will recognize him when he moves in with us.  The amazing world of cyberspace and video-voice chats brings families closer.  lol

Speaking of my Oli, I should get back to her.  She doesn’t like it when I’m in on the computer too long.

Power of Choice

Touchstone was the jumping off point for me to really dig into my past and my family dynamics.  Funny how such a simple thing as seeing similarities between two different people in your life can result in a massive unearthing of pain and trauma.

I spoke with a good friend today about my emotional revelations, along with some of the actual story details.  For the very first time in my life I had someone validate my pain and just how horrible it actually was for me.  To see my parents fight and my father brutally beat my mother in front of me, never knowing if my dad would come home or not… or how long he’d be gone if he didn’t, would it be safe or not if he did come home, feeling responsible for my parents fighting, and never being allowed to talk about the trauma and my feelings around it.  All of this happened between birth and 6 years…. the fundamental formative years of who I am, how I function in the world and how I form relationships with others.  The validation was exactly what I needed to hear.  The next thing she told me was to repeat this mantra over and over-  I have a right and deserve to be loved, protected, and safe.  What a powerful statement to hear and tell myself.

The abuse goes beyond the initial domestic violence, abandonment, and lack of any sense of stability.  I am the product of a second marriage after my mom divorced her first husband and left the other kids.  This is not the story she tells, but I know this how they all felt, as they have all told me at one time or another.  Not only did I always have my mom all those years, but I am the child of the man who beat her.  I am also the child of the man who threatened the older kids physically.  So many layers of trauma and abuse for all of us kids. Being in this position in the family, much unfair neglect and abuse have come my way.  My older brother has been the worst offender in abusing me emotionally on so many levels.  At this point, I am not able or willing to have empathy for his feelings about the family history.  What I do know is that regardless of what he feels, wants, needs from anyone… I AM NOT AT FAULT for his pain… and I will not longer fall victim to his abuse.

The same holds true for my mom.  She won’t admit it, but I’m now very sure that part of her neglect and emotional distancing of me is because I am my father’s child.  For years she has told me I am not part of “that family.”  I am her child and nothing like them. I look a lot like my father and have many of his personality characteristics, minus the violent tendencies.  This must be very painful for her… to look at her child and see the product of a man who hurt her over and over.  I would imagine it to be similar to being the product of a rape… except there was love between them on some level.  Does this give her the right to deny who I am?  To disrespect my thoughts, feelings, experiences?  To withhold love and an emotional connection?  Absolutely NOT!

I have the power of choice now that I can clearly see what all the dynamics are in the family and how I fit into them.  I can choose to stay in the mix and continue to be on the receiving end of neglect and emotional abuse, I can walk away completely and find my own family,  I can cut some people out of my life and not others, or I can do some varying combination of these things.  As of today, my choice is to remove the most painful people from my life altogether, keep the ones who love and support, and set clear boundaries and expectations with those who are in the middle… and be willing to walk away (temporarily, as the case may be) when the boundaries are not respected.  I, too, have to commit to respecting other’s boundaries and expectations.  This is not a one-way street for any of us.  I did not become the victim of abuse for 39 years without playing my role, too.

Being rejected and abandoned on multiple levels for so many years, when I did realize it hurt to be part of the family, I made a choice (not a cognitive one!) that it was better to keep quiet, watch my P’s and Q’s, and accept the abuse in order to maintain my place in the family.  Losing everyone and truly believing that if my own family didn’t really want me that no one else would either.  I would be all alone… and TOTALLY unsafe in the world.  Through years of my own therapy and personal growth, I have come to know this is a fallacy.  Each of us has our own special gifts and we are all so lovable… and there are many people out there who will see us for the person we really are and love us to bits!  Writing that “we are all so lovable” made me think back to a teacher at my high school, Mr. Custodio.  He was an ex-priest and taught latin.  All the kids at school used to joke about him making all his students repeat this following phrase each day in his class:  I Am Lovable And Likable.  (IALAL as it was posted on the wall.)  What a beautiful gift he gave each of his students.  I wish I had recognized it then.

I am flexing my power of choice to allow people into my life who are loving, kind, accepting, gentle, and just plain old make me feel good being with them!  I am also choosing to tell myself each day that I have a right and deserve to be loved, protected, and safe. 



Over the years I have had many feelings and opinions which I have kept to myself. By and large, in my family I was taught not to have feelings… and if I do certainly not to talk about them! Constantly being told not to feel that way, that my expression takes too long or better yet told how to better phrase my own feelings, that I’ve been talking too much, being punished and judged for having and expressing feelings, or simply diverted completely from even entering into a conversation about feelings with the all famous saying “Let’s not go there tonight, Jodie.”

In my family, I am the IP (identified patient). I’m the one who has gotten psychiatric help, therapy, and actually learned how to live a very functional, happy life with meaningful relationships. Yet I am the one who is always pointed to as the weak one. Being diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 25 after making some bad life choices and realizing things were going badly has kind of labeled my entire existence to a degree. Today, I identify with the diagnosis, but it is not who I am anymore. I will be the first one to admit that I had a lot of trouble managing my life, behavior, and choices for a while. Once I asked for help and got on the right meds, my life pretty much straightened out. It’s been nearly 10 years since I’ve really had big issues. I still cycle and have some minor mood abnormalities, but for the most part they are only a day or two in duration and easily controlled before creating any damage in my life. I have excellent insight into my symptoms and coping skills for keeping things on track. It irks me to no end that my brother still finds it necessary from time to time to comment on the fact that I’ve been doing well for “a while now” and remind me that I have some limitations and not to pressure myself too much or take on too much.

Let’s go back to the start here and talk a little more about not having feelings. There has been all sorts of crap in my family starting with the initial parental neglect and hurts. For my older siblings,they were physically neglected. As for me, I was emotionally neglected by my mom and abandoned by my dad. All of this pretty much spells a recipe for disaster! Then you bring in the dynamics between us kids and whatever hurts there have been between us. No where in any of this do we ever talk about our feelings, acknowledge our own hurts, or validate that we may have hurt someone else. The one time I did try to talk to one of my brothers about something he said which really hurt me I was criticized and then judged for having tears around my hurt and disappointment. The statement which followed will haunt me forever. He hit me below the belt for expressing emotion and being honest about how hard things were for me at that time. He told me he didn’t trust me to be alone with his children. He was afraid I would say or do something which might hurt them and he needed to always be present to protect them. Now there was no need to speak these words…unless the iintent was directly aimed at hurtnig me!

There are things brewing in my life outside of my biological family which triggered some of these feelings to come back up for me again.

The first is around work. I work with mentally ill adults. I’ve done this type of work for 10 years now. I have a lot of experience both professionally and personally. After learning not to speak up and express myself, I have tons of resentments around my co-workers which are at the breaking point for me. There are things ranging from personality differences to actual treatment of the clients. I would be willing to admit that most of these things are hitting me personally around not feeling respected, listened to, along with a need to protect those who can’t stand up for themselves (since no one ever stood up for me). I’m seeing that despite my personal feelings around these issues, they are troublesome and inappropriate nonetheless. Today I stood up for a decision I made which was countermanded by a fellow staff member. When I took the 2nd stand, my intent was to actually bring peace and understanding to all of us, so that there would be no question as to expectations from all involved and erradicate any possible disputes or hurt feelings. The end result of this situation was my boss taking a stand (quietly) for my position and shutting down the arguments of the other staff person. My first response was to feel self righteous about “winning.” The the guilt set in about how upset my co-worker appeared. Now that it’s been hours since the incident, I am feeling relieved and at peace with myself for taking a position. Whether it was right or wrong, I took a stand for something and followed through with asking for what I wanted and needed. The fact that the result was positive was just an added kudo.

The second areas lies in my relationship with Benneth. I know I talked yesterday about not asking for what I wanted and feeling left of center. The only times I’ve ever gotten angry with him are when I’ve felt distanced or unloved in some way. Asking for what I want and need instead of being angry would be so much more effective in rectifying that situation, don’tcha think?! lol I want you to love me, so I push you away. Benneth is the first relationship I’ve had since I got all of my meds totally straightened out and my life in order with no baggage… at least tangible! The strides I’ve made with him around communication, trust, expectations, forgiveness, etc. have been immense! In the process of being in this relationship, I have come up against a number of challenging things within myself. How do I tell the man I love I’ve been in a psychiatric hospital? That I have to take medication every day for the rest of my life to stay “normal” or my life gets out of control fast? How do I explain to him what “out of control” looks like? How can I ever be honest about all the things I’ve done in my past which will impact some areas of our future together? Over the years the answers have come to me. Not all at once. They seemed to come on God’s time…. when I was ready for the next level of trust and honesty. Just a week or so ago I finally told Benneth the last thing hanging over my head to deal with. I was soo afraid to even broach the subject! Once I told him there was silence for a minute (felt like 5!) and then he came back with the most loving response. It was outside my realm of imagination get a response like that! He came from the perspective of marriage, partnership, teamwork, respect, and helping each other with those things the other has a weakness in. The reality is that for the first time in my whole entire life….. I am loved, supported, and accepted EXACTLY AS I AM! What an amazing feeling! I had an awakening tonight where I realized that I trust him completely. I don’t mean that figuratively. I mean, there is absolutely no area of my life that I am afraid to share with him. Learning to talk about feelings easier will come in time with more practice.

There are so very many reasons for which I have regailed this epic tale to you. Most important to me in this moment is to support anyone in my boat who is afraid to speak up and express your feelings and opinions for whatever reason.

The reinforcement I got Monday was phenominal, to say the least! I went to my supervisor and asked to talk with him. Two hours later, I left with a sense of honor and validation. Not only did he see importance in my insights and view points, but he was willing to assist me with sharing them with everyone else.

He has been looking for my spirit name for the past four years. (He is a gestalt therapist… this speaks volumes to anyone who knows what gestalt is.) He found it Monday.

Touchstone: The one who centers the group and speaks out to what is right.
(Even if I’m terrified to do it!)

I am happy. Content. Filled with love. And so honored to be considered a touchstone!

Left of center

My entire day has gone really well.  Work was basically stress free.  Enjoyed dinner with a friend and then had a nice discount shopping trip.  (One of my favorite things!)  Amazing some of the bargains you can find out there!  There seems to be this uncontrollable phenomenon that because it’s cheaper I have to buy it… and even more things, too, because I saved so much money on the first thing.  Doesn’t all come out in the wash.

So, as I said, my entire day really was pleasant and positive….and then I bought myself a pretty artificial Christmas tree.  I was so excited about this tree when I saw it and brought it home!  I have an adorable apartment which I’ve hand picked all of my furniture and decorations.  It’s mine in all ways.  I’m proud of my humble little home and have come to really enjoy being here…. even if I complain about too much alone time.  Purchasing this silly tree brought about so many uncomfortable feelings for me.  Seems that a tree was the impetus for feeling all of my disappointments, frustrations, hurts, angers around the holidays.  Some real, some imagined.  For so many people, the approach of the holidays can be such a time of turbulence and disappointment because of too many expectations and hoping things will be different this year.  It seems that every year I remind my clients to let go of expectations and do what feels good to them.  What’s that saying?  Doctor, heal thy self!  This is the first time in years that I’ve had any issues with holiday expectations for myself or others.  Why is it different this year?

I can’t remember a time EVER that Ben and I have been so far off in our needs and head space as we were tonight.  You know, it’s never unpleasant talking to him or being with him.  lol  This is yet another lesson in expectations!  No matter how meant for each other we are and in tune with the other, etc., etc., etc….. neither of us can read the other’s mind!  lol  This has always been a personal fault of mine.  Believing that I can get irritated with you for not meeting my needs when I don’t actually tell you what they are, because you should know.  What a fallacy that is!  Change of tune to the first sentence in this paragraph: I wanted a different reaction from Ben from the one he gave me and I’m feeling disappointed  because I never actually stopped to tell him what I was feeling or wanted/needed from him.  Now that I have that clear!  Introspection and honesty… what great gifts!  (Yes, there is sarcasm in that statement, but also much truth and appreciation.)

I started out at onset of this post feeling somewhat left of center.  Now that I’ve looked at what took me there, I’m back to feeling right as rain!  Lots going on beneath the surface on several levels, but the basic theme is there for me: EXPECTATION!

Good night.

Language of our hearts

When you find your soulmate there is nothing you don’t want to share with him!  I had the most amazing day today!  Everything just kind of fell in place and I made good decisions about my life, my values, and what I want for myself and others.  I asked for what I wanted and got it… or at least a plan to work towards getting it.  So when I talked to Benneth tonight I could hardly contain myself with the joy and excitement in telling him all about my day!  Tonight we didn’t talk long… probably a good thing for us both.  I’ve been staying up way to late into the wee hours of the morning and he’s been getting his morning started later.  He runs his own business with his best friend,but still, you need to maintain some kind of regular pattern with your business partner about when you’re coming in.  I wonder sometimes if he thinks I don’t think about such things?  He is always… I mean ALWAYS available to talk to me when I need him.  He’ll stop doing pretty much whatever he’s doing to talk to me for a while.  Not always a long while, but at least a little while.

Now, our 2 year anniversary was on the 1st, so lots of emotions coming up for us both.  It’s been over a year now since we’ve seen each other.  Sometimes it’s all I can do to contain the sadness I feel around this!  Seems we always get sad at the same time and overwhelmed by the grief and stress of being apart.  This is the ONLY time we ever argue.  I mean this in all honesty!  I can’t remember a time in our entire relationship when we’ve fought or argued over anything other than missing each other.  When these times arise, the topic of our arguments aren’t about the stress and feelings, they are superficial things… but when you boil down the basic topics it’s always the same:  I MISS YOU!  I NEED YOU HERE!

We had one of these periods a couple of weeks ago.  Even though it hurts to argue with him, in a way it’s a relief.  How can it be a relief to fight with your partner?  No, I’m talking about make-up sex!  lol  It’s a strong validation of how much we both love and need each other.  My tender feelings took a little longer to snap back to normal than usual this time.  Dunno why?  Well, yes I do!  I’ve been trying to come up with  the time off work and the money to get back to Lagos again ASAP so we can get married for awhile now and things just keep coming up to make it difficult.  My mom has been making comments about our marriage possibly not being God’s will since it’s been so hard to get the money.  Then she makes other comments about wishing I’d find a husband like ____ (fill in blank with whatever successful career you want).  Now, this really hurts my feelings!  So disrespectful of our commitment and my feelings for him.  I’m quite sure she doesn’t tell my brothers what she wishes for them in this regard!  Long story short, I started to buy into her lack of support and trust in what I feel is right and true.

Lately it has seemed so clear to me that we both speak a language of our love.  A language of our heart.  I left the “s” off on purpose.  With a true soulmate, there is a genuine feeling that you are no longer “I” but ony “we”.  He is no longer Benneth and I am no longer Jodie…we are a melding of our two hearts and souls.  Our bodies may be thousands of miles apart, but the separation is small compared to unity we both experience.  The other day I was just so sad and began to sob when we got ready to hang up the phone.  It was uncontrollable.  I tried to stop it… not let him hear me cry.  This is the only thing which breaks his heart and brings on anger.  Not anger with me, but anger that there is nothing he can do to stop my tears or end the situation causing my tears.  Helplessness.  He didn’t tell me not to cry.  Instead he spoke to my heart.  The actual words are not remembered now, but what I recall is that he knew in that moment exactly what I was feeling and what I needed to hear in his words.  Within a few minutes we were laughing again and back to our happy selves.

I never believed in soulmates before I met Benneth.  I thought I’d been in love… and been loved.  My God, I had absolutely no idea what it meant to love or be loved!  I experienced lust, companionship, like, and a few other things I’m sure, but never love!  It still never ceases to amaze me the things he and I talk about!  We’ve compared prices on apples between Lagos and California.  The deepest hurts of our lives, which for both of us was the loss of our fathers.  Debated politics, morals, values, and had deep philosophical discussions about God and our faith.  I think my favorite topics of conversation are returning time after time to our future and how we will manage our day-to-day life together on all levels and keep things balanced between us.  It may seem funny to most to talk about how you will handle disputes in your marriage and how you express your anger/frustration/hurt along with what you need in order to bring peace back between you, but these are what I love best in our talks.  It is evidence of a level of commitment, trust, and communication which I simply had no idea were possible!  Though we’ve been physically apart most of our relationship, I simply cannot imagine my life withuot him!

So in our chat tonight, I was so excited to tell him all the great things I acchieved today that I didn’t let him get a word in edgewise.  I try not to do that… mostly because I get irritated when he does it to me too many times in a row.  So when I realized I’d done all the talking, I gave him the opportunity to talk.  He was just waking up and a bit tired, so didn’t have much to say yet.  In our usual 15-20 minute goodbye, he said something which totally struck a cord with me:

“Even though I didn’t say much today, I enjoyed you.  Thank you for knowing the language of our hearts.”

Afuru ngi naya, Ifunaya m!  (I love you, my love!  in Igbo)

Another Sunday

Here it is Sunday again.  I love my weekends off, but it sure does get lonely around the apartment!  Oli is pretty good company, but for an all day thing it’s hard to be here by myself .  I soo wanted to get my own apartment and not have a housemate.  Now that I have it, I miss the company!  lol  The grass is always greener…

Between the power outage this morning here, the time differene, and Benneth having to renew his internet subscription I haven’t been able to connect with him all day.  I know it’s only one day, but really, when your partner is across the world and you only get an hour or so a day together that one day makes a huge differene!  I miss my Benneth!

I’ve been cooking a lot this weekend.  Experimenting with new and rather unique recipes of my own creation.  Yesterday it was turkey-pumpkin meatloaf.  Today it’s salmon w/ginger and peaches.  Looks beautiful, but haven’t tasted it yet.  A little too early for dinner yet.  The meatloaf was honestly the best meatloaf I’ve ever had!  My friend, Rachel, suggested that I enter this meatloaf in the county fair next year.  Hmmm… an interesting idea!  Not real sure how one does that, but I guess I can pretty easily find out.

Another part of Sundays for me is getting my house in order for the coming week.  OMG do I have a lot to do today!  I’ve been working at losing weight (currently down 65 lbs!) and now most of my clothes are too big.  So I’m in the process of sorting through everything I own, which is monumental, and making a donation to St. Vincent de Paul.  Right now I have mountains of clothes spread over me entire apartment which need to be bagged for donation, washed, or put away.  Since everything I own is out of my closet I want to take this opportunity to reorganize it.  I don’t know which is more overwhelming for me: putting things away or organizing them in the process?!  I have always said that laundry is he bane of my existence.  I don’t think it’s the laundry.  I think it’s that I have so many clothes that I can procrastinate on the laundry… so it’s a gargantuan task!

Tonight is our night to watch The Walking Dead at Annie’s house.  The season premiere was pretty awful last week, but I’m gonna give it another shot.  Everyone says it’s a good series.  If it’s terrible this week, too, then it’s bye-bye time!

Laundry calls!  lol