Dare to Drink Lemon Water and Nap

I’ve begun to make up stories about how maybe my low mojo is related to the fact that I should not have had a child so late in life, or that maybe we need to move to Bali or some other place I don’t speak the language and have never visited, or that maybe it’s time to crank out that bestseller finally.  Just write some sexy stuff or how to get a tighter ass or inner peace or a new car and pretend I know what I’m talking about.  Get some spandex push up suck in outfit or maybe ethereal yet alluring “natural” flow-y look and take a bunch of come hither photos.  Then I’ll feel better for sure.

I’ve been spending too much time on social media.  Facebook is not on my list of things to do, ever.  And yet many many moments throughout the day I  find myself there, hypnotized by mini-videos about how to apply face contour versus bronzer when I don’t wear either, hitting replay on Harry Styles in a sequined onesie dancing with Shania Twain, suffering some kind of love/loathe feeling as coach after coach after coach  offers me something I didn’t  know I wanted or needed but now want desperately and am fiercely skeptical about whether  they have it to sell.

I’m considering getting a flip phone. I’m considering adjusting my SSRIs.  I’m considering acupuncture, sound bowl healing, biofeedback, and eating more carbs.  I’m considering allergy meds.  I’m considering cold plunges.  I’m considering a nap.  I’m considering drinking more lemon water.  Actually, I’m drinking lemon water with a dash of cider vinegar right now.  It’s fantastic.  Life is good.  I’m gonna keep going.

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