The Minds Labyrinth

It all started with an Elvis cup. Okay not really but I wish that was the beginning, in truth that's about the half-way mark. It actually all started with dust. Lots and lots of dust. Husband and I were getting ready for a move closer to my family doctor and well family for more support and all that jazz. . We spent a week doing nothing but packing   We spent a week preparing for the move We spent two days of the two weeks we knew about the move actually packing and the rest pretending to pack while in reality I was procrastinating. It's an illness, I can't help it. My room was a mess. Imagine a tornado, hurricane, earthquake, tsunami all hit at once and that was our bedroom. Our entire floor was coated in a carpet made out of dirty laundry. Like I said, I procrastinate...a lot. The packing stirred the dust and I inhaled it causing me to choke and be hit with a sudden sharp and immobilizing pain near to where I assume the baby is located. I assumed it was nothing and...

Being a grown up sucks. As a child all we hope for is to grow up and live on our own, out of school, no parents, eating what we want when we want it. Cookies for dinner? Hell yes I want cookies for dinner. And yet here I am, a complete grown up, and I yearn for the naive innocence of child hood. I find myself wishing I could live in Neverland and, like Peter Pan, never grow up. Live a child for all eternity, no bills, no groceries, stress free. Over the years of being grown up and posting here about my daily life I've noticed that I've grown strange. Less insightful, a pretentious anti-hipster hipster somethingorother writing my nonsense to no one in particular. All I wanted was to be heard and here I am, being listened to by people. To those of you reading this I thank you. Anyway, the more pressing matter here is that I will soon be posting once a week in a series called "You don't know the half of it". This series will be dedicated to telling the storie...