The last day and a half have been no fun. I’m bloated, crampy and generally feel like crap thanks to TOM.
It’s the first time in months (I can’t remember exactly how long) I’ve even had to deal with this stuff. Just the other day, I wondered if I might be done for good. I even considered clearing out my stash of feminine hygiene products so I had more room under the sink to store TP.
Ah, Mother Nature, you’re so funny. Not.
Seriously. If surprise periods with extra cramps and raging salt/sugar cravings is what menopause is like, I want no part of it.
Let’s move on to happier topics, shall we?
When I got home from work Monday night, this box waited by the gate.
Intrigued, I was, because I didn’t remember ordering anything. Nevertheless, I took it inside and ripped it open. I love getting packages in the mail — even when I don’t know what’s inside. (Seriously. You ever want to off me, just send me a mysterious package. I’ll more than likely open it just to see what’s in there.)
When I saw the contents of Monday’s box, everything clicked. I made a bid in Amanda’s FEED 10 Bake Sale and ended up winning Karla’s PB Dark Chocolate Breakfast Muffins.
Don’t they look great? I can’t wait to dig in this morning.
Monday morning, I tweeted:
I spend too much time worrying about the unknown. Usually it turns out to be a lot less harrowing than I worried it’d be.
— Arlene Hittle (@ArleneAWL) August 12, 2013
I was referring to the edits for DIVA IN THE DUGOUT. While I waited for my editor to get back to me with her first round of edits, I panicked my way into at least three major rewrites.
Turns out, my worries were unfounded. I have some work to do, of course, but it’s not nearly as involved as I was afraid it’d be. Good thing, too, since my Sept. 1 deadline is looming ever nearer.
The realization led me to my tweet observation, which struck a chord with some folks. It got responded to twice and favorited once — and that’s more interaction than most of my tweets.
What can I say? I’m no Twitter social butterfly.
That brings me to one of Katy Widrick’s latest posts, The Trouble with Cliques. She does a great job of capturing how I sometimes feel: On the periphery … trying to be popular and succeeding somewhat, just not nearly as much as I’d like.
I’m lucky to be a part of great groups of authors who’ve never made me feel less than. My fellow NARWAns, the Starcatchers (the 2011 Golden Heart class), The Chicklets and my new Turquoise Morning Press sisters have all welcomed me with open arms. For that, I love them all.
I’ve also felt welcomed in the blog community. When I attended Blend Retreat, I worried I was too old and too out-of-shape — but I was the only one who was making me feel that way. Everyone else accepted me for who I am (one of the many lessons I learned at Blend2013). Even now, it gives me the warm fuzzies.
Yikes. Sappy sentiment alert (times two).
Can I blame it on the hormones?