A Dream Within a Dream...

I am quite certain that Edgar A. Poe was on to something when he wrote:

"Everything that we see or seem

is but a dream within a dream."

There are a great many days when it seems as though it's all just a dream, I'll wake up, and have to actually face the day. Unfortunately, I know it to be a fact that I've already faced the day, and it's been one hell of one at that! It's been one hell of a week, to be more precise.

You see, I've been off my happy psychotropics for about 5 months now...maybe longer, i forget. I decided to banish western medications from my "medicine cabinet" and replace them with a more natural approach in the forms of teas and tinctures. Most days are successful, despite the utter chaos that surrounds me damn near every day. However, this past month has been the biggest struggle for me! Not only is the heat unbearable, my kids, dog(of whom we shall now refer to as the beast), and the lusty woodsman have all contributed to my insanity. Which is why I have come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as NORMAL. It doesn't exist.

Ed was right.....

I'm going to add physical activity to my schedule of happiness, along with the teas and tinctures. Poppins assured me that a bit of exercise would do me some good. I shall comply.

To give you a better understanding of why my daily schedule needs a bit of an addition to keep my sanity in check, I shall expound:

1. Heat: today is 98 with a heat index of 105... 'nuf said.

2. Kids: because of our glorious heat wave (of which I am certain we will all shrivel up and die), my kids are forced to remain indoors, which inevitably means.........near me. The bickering, complaining, and downright ugliness is explanation enough as to why mothers drown their children (just watched "Shutter Island" last night...odd). I am moving.......far away.......to Utopia. Now, if I could just find that map.....................

3: Beast: He is a big, black, 140 pound puppy. The neighbors chickens are free. Because the said neighbors aren't that bright, really. Because having animal control take away their feral declawed kitty in 17 degree weather this past winter, along with receiving citations for said feral declawed kitty, wasn't enough to have them keep their animals from running free. As I was saying, the chickens are running free. In my yard. Beastie wants him some dinner!!! I swear I'm going to bury him in the back yard if he continues barking "CHICKEN! I SEE ANOTHER CHICKEN! OOO, OOO, THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!"

and

4. Lusty woodsman: fried chicken. Long story short: he wanted fried chicken for dinner. Took it upon himself to make said fried chicken. 3 grease fires, 1/2 pound of baking soda, and a smoky house later, I saved fried chicken dinner. The first 2 pieces were thrown by my lusty woodsman into the yard...grease, pan and all. Something about the smoking pan, the black chicken and my concern that he wear a shirt just didn't click.

Ed was most definitely right.