I Can't Think of a Title for This Post

I've written very little lately. I think it's because I've been embarrassed to express that I'm not having that great a time in my new gig. My kids are crying everyday because they don't want to go to daycare all day and I don't blame them. And although I have been privileged already to walk with patients and their families in those sacred last days of life this side of eternity, I still feel like a cog in the machinery of this for-profit company.

Maybe I'm not cut out to be a 9-5er. I feel like such a brat saying that because that is what normal people do; work and come home. Why should I think that I'm so frickin' special?

God, I wouldn't be surprised if no one reads my blog anymore. I'm getting on my own nerves.

I'm Back, Kinda

Dell finally came through and I have another computer to replace the lemon they sold me before. I'm slowly coming back to the blogosphere, but I haven't had the heart to write anything for awhile.

I'm taking steps to try to feel better. I've been walking and watching my sugar intake, but I think that I need my meds adjusted. So, I have an appointment with a new psychiatrist on Thursday. I hope to get on something that will help me not feel like I'm living my life in slow motion. Also, I hope to find a med that won't take away any and all sexual desire so that I might stay married.

On the upside, I've got really beautiful tulips in my flowerbeds right now! I wish I had a digital camera, so I could post a photo of them. In the fall, I bought a very cheap bag of bulbs at Home Depot, not expecting much from them. But they are gorgeous- some red, some yellow, some red AND yellow! I'm taking hope that I can find pleasure in this small thing.

I'm Here, Kinda

I've been fighting a nasty cold this week and I am still in a bit of a funk, so I haven't felt like doing much of anything, including blogging. This cold keeps tricking me into thinking that I'm getting better, such as yesterday when I had lunch with Linda. Now it feels like all the gunk is making its way to my chest. Great.

I have several things brewing that I want to write about here, but I can't summon the will to do it. I am not like some bloggers who, like Henri Nouwen, are able to write poignantly and eloquently about how they are feeling when they are in the middle of a depressive episode. Words fail me. I just want to find a small, warm, soft and dark place to hide until I feel like emerging.

So, I'm here....kinda