Mar. 8th, 2008

More questions!

Do you ever worry about small things?
Incessantly. I just try not to let that worry overrun my life. I realize that worry is a niggling thing, but . . . I don't know, I just try not to get my worrying too much power. Doesn't mean it doesn't get the best of me sometimes and that I don't lie awake beating myself up over a mistake I made when I was ten or four or twenty-six. I do that. I'm getting over it. Slowly. I don't worry about the here and now or the future. I worry about the irrevocable past.

Where did you find your zen and can I have some?
I really don't know. I suppose I'm just confident that my instincts are reliable. And, y'know, it never hurts to always be right (except for when I'm not, and that's okay, too). Zen is never something I've really thought about, which is funny--a lot of folks keep remarking on my zen approach to motherhood. My current approach to motherhood involves a vodka martini (made with Absolut New Orleans) and a half bottle of wine. Oh, wait, that's just my approach to tonight.

No more sex questions, people. I won't answer them. My mother reads this journal. Besides, my libido disappeared when my milk came in.

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