Hunk a Hunk of Burning Love

Burnin Up

It's happening....

I'm guessing this is the start of old age. Every day is like a damn science experience, and it's quite comical. I have always looked forward to aging, like a badge of honor. I guess, even with all my knowledge, I didn't realize it would come as a burning badge of fiery hot glory.

It's probable what I deserve.

I can officially say I'm Hotsy Totsy, for real.

Ya know, we don't talk about it very much and I do believe it's something that is hard to comprehend until you are experiencing it. All the years I shook my head at my mom, with her head in the freezer, or vacuuming like a mad woman in her bra and underwear...

I just never knew.

I apologize, Mom.

Yesterday, I noticed K in a sweatshirt and a hat, inside .

I rolled my eyes, really really rolled my eyes.

He was kind enough to not mention it,

or even say a word for that matter, 

but it was obvious that he was feeling as if he was camping in the frozen tundra with his full Patagonia gear in place.

I made a stealth trek over to my sacred wall art, 

aka "the thermostat"

and oopsie

62 inside.... and it was 32 outside

felt pretty good to me?

 I'm not a sadist, so I turned it up to 65.

I'm not only hot in my old age, but apparently getting soft too. 

A friend at work said, 

"why in the hell would they do this to us? 

Chin hairs, gaining weight, mood swings, hot-flashes,

 ....Christ, like getting old isn't hard enough?"

I looked her right in the eye and said,

"It's so we are no longer fuckable/mating material. 

It's time for us to become invisible Sages and let the young does take over" .

It is the most comical part of life as a woman. 

I am finally to a point where I have time, money and peace...

but with it came chin hair and 45 second.... 20 times a day, boiling points. 

I mean, maybe it's so when I arrive in hell I'll be fully prepared?

Whatever the case ...

I'm surviving

It's my bday weekend 

and I'm gonna be 

Hot as Hell

( all the way around)

v8grrl

write ya later,

m

We All Need Gucci Therapy

Real life scenario

Nurse Julie, "Have you guys tried to get therapy through Employee Assistance Program"

Me,"Yeah, tried to get it for my kid...no one accepts it"

Nurse Sally,"no shit, and if they do? it's ghetto"

Me, "It's like the Cost Cutters of therapy"

extended pause.....

"I don't need Cost Cutter Therapy, I need some damn Gucci therapy....

I'm in a bad place and I can't even get on the waitlist for the runway"

That was the conversation at 5am at the nurse's station on a Wednesday morning. 

True story.

Julie, " what do you do when your family is sick?"

Me, " I want to kill them"

also me....

driving,

 on the way to work, 

crying,

 looking at the snow-covered front range, 

at all the beauty, 

and at the same time, thinking how much shit I have been through,

 and really....

how I just want to fall off the planet.

"I feel so much, yet so little...I cry a lot when I am alone and nothing brings me happiness anymore, not even beer"

"Girl, that is some real life compassion burn out"

Yeah, that is why I cannot use that cheap ass therapy.  

I need some real, 

top shelf, 

no fucking around therapy, 

Gucci Therapy

but,

there is none.

I have been reminded by friends and family many times in the last 2 years that I really need to partake in some sort of therapy.

The list is long, and I'm not even sure a therapist would know where to start....

I sure wouldn't know where to start talking.

Maybe cost cutters isn't so bad?

Maybe they are the gateway to the future of my relief. 

They don't get paid much, but they are trained for the basics.

But honestly, 

M needs some real talk therapy.

Real ability to go back to the start and figure out why I am such a stubborn, empathetic, tearful, soul.

Is there an answer within therapy?

anyone?

does anyone know the answer to this?

hmmm

damn Gucci Therapy

I need it

we all could use some Gucci mental health therapy

write ya later

m