I am thinking that this may very well be my first 4th of July in the past decade that is not fraught with some sort of, well, drama of the double-X chromosome type. (Strange holiday to pick for this kind of thing, no doubt.) At least, none that is within geographic proximity. Which is just as well.

I still have this raging restlessness crashing around my soul, but my only goal for now is to keep my shit together, to minimize the freaking-out, and to go about my business, pretending that I am a sane human being.

Seriously, times like this, I wonder if I am destined to go crazy. I do have a family history of mental illness on both sides of the family.

OK, OK, yes, I am trying to remind myself—as R has counseled—that I am not being deported, that I am not in prison, not starving, not terminally ill. Things could be a lot of worse. Still. Still. Aargh.

Calvin’s Mom Life could be worse.

Calvin Life could be a whole lot better, too.

from “Calvin and Hobbes”

Ah. Solipsism and ego-centricity. The last refuge of the eternally damned.

I’m OK, you’re OK. We’re all OK. OK? Hahaha.