Gears grinding down. Head and heart heavy. I took stock of my life and wasn't thrilled with what I saw: broke (or damn near close to it), ailing family members, loveless (yet again), spinning wheels at work and school (if it wasn't a glass ceiling I had hit it may as well have been concrete, for all its crushing power).
I called off work, sick with what could have been H1N1 and thought, "damn... is this all there really is?"
2 days later, I emerged from my Baudelaire-ian ennui, and found my life-force returning. Spirits lifting, glass-half-full, I gave thanks for the good health I've grown so used to enjoying, and reminded myself that as long as my creative nature is churning, there's butter to be made.
Day 1 out of "Le Funk," I did what always seems to set my heart and mind at peace: cooked and cleaned. Somewhere inside this MMA-badass-wannabe is a dainty, domestic 'lil thang, quite content to putter around the house dusting, mopping, and chopping.
I made some Pumpkin Pudding.
Now you can, too...