the wreckoning comes
in a storm or gentle breeze
i'm caught, unaware


Alright, so this blog is becoming a black hole for my stress.  Feel free to stop reading; I will promise you that I will try to be little-miss-sunshine about my shitty life soon - I'm just not feeling it this day/month/year.

No good calls start with, "hey, Chrissy".    It's a strange thing, when you're not even 50 and your world is beginning to unravel - literally and physically, the cupboard doors are coming off in my hands and the fridge has stopped working.  Yes - literally and physically - I can have these repaired, but nothing is as strong as it used to be and we're all inching toward destruction. 

Fuck ;)