#TBT (#FBF) – The OCD Highway
I was too busy with sick people to get my #TBT post up yesterday. I thought about backdating it, but decided just to make this week #FBF instead.
Author: Rhiannon Giles
Petri dish of viral hell.
Do you use a Petri dish with viruses? I don’t know how to science.
Everyone is sort of sneezy and snotty, and Rowan started coughing and wheezing. I stayed home with him yesterday, glad that this seemed to be a regular cold, and not another Bronchiolitis-level illness.
The dishes can wait and other lies
“They’re only young once.”
The words are superimposed on an idyllic picture of a child in nature or a beach with footprints leading to the horizon. There’s always a hazy filter. The bottom caption implores you to leave a counter full of dirty dishes, to eschew housework, to be present for your children for they will grow up before your very eyes. We are reminded that no one has ever said they wish they had spent more time doing housework, and less time with the kids.
Couldn’t we have at least named the sport something original?
I’ve heard there is an important game of sportsball on today. Rowan says #keeppounding. I don’t even know what that means. His middle name is a tribute to my best friend Steven, who, in a complete and reckless disregard for gay stereotypes is a huge Panthers fan.
#TBT – That time I gave Willie Nelson an enema
I used to be a veterinary assistant.
I snuggled puppies, put kitten on my shoulders, and got lots of licks and kisses from sweet dogs.
Into the scary woods
I’ve spent an enormous amount of mental energy forging routes around fear; taking the long way to avoid those scary woods. It’s an exhausting and isolated path, full of its own obstacles and lacking a GPS signal. My way was studded with compulsion and hidden distress, holding myself responsible for outcomes and creating imaginary control where I had none. I hid it well, which only served to make the road more desolate.