m&m’s,

Mmm, M&M’s. I miss them. And the Golden Oreos taunt me. It’s all I’ll say. Week 2 leading into Week 3 isn’t much improved, really. Although I did find a charming mix of dried fruit and nuts on sale at Target, as well as a new local produce store. I love this town, but sometimes it’s evident we don’t have shit, as far as certain resources.

And I know logically that I chose sweets sacrifice for a reason, that perhaps I don’t need so much of it the rest of the year, but the question looms: how much is too much? Because the sugar-crash headache post-pancakes was telling. But chocolate… doesn’t the soul just need it? Hmm.

Saturday passed in a blur. Something about new beds? And a wicked headache at the end of the day, brought on by nothing. Or stress or something. And today I had all sorts of intentions about a full morning at church, followed by time at a coffee shop to take care of some blog business, but ultimately it was a half-morning at church (still good, however), followed by coupon-clipping and some random sorting leftover from yesterday. I need to get *situated* before I can really work, I guess.

Supposedly, I have a dentist appt on Tuesday, but I don’t wanna, so I’m probably not gonna. It’s been 6 mos., and I feel that’s far too early. It should be more like 9 mos. or a year. Now an eye appt., that I could use. Unfortunately.

The magazine US Weekly is like readable crack, btw. And speaking of crack, did you know that arlie-Chay een-Shay’s wife checked into rehab for the habit? I mean, drugs, schumgs, but crack? It’s crossing a line I don’t know how to describe. And the babies, what about the babies. She has twins.

Also, interestingly, our prayer maze walk will be at night on Friday. I thought it would be morning? But this is even better, I feel. Night. Church. Candles. Meditation. Ooo.

I’ve lately been considering, too, that I need to return to my non-talking roots. I mean, now that I know how, I feel like most of my spoken words are drivel? Talking too much just adds to the clutter of my mind. Because then there’s more for me to analyze. I’m not talking about a complete moratorium on talking, because I’ve also done that before (sort of involuntarily), and that can quickly get complicated. Just a cutback. See what happens.

I feel another headache coming on. What the hell.

LESS THAN TWO WEEKS, MY FRIEND.

love,

pen