The inner workings of a troubled mind.

I didn't give up. I swear I didn't.

The past six months I have struggled to deal with a tremendous amount of stress that was thrown atop of my shoulders. Besides my daily duties, my son hating pre-k the first half of the year, and the constant bullshit my family dishes out at random hours of the day, I have managed to stay semi-sane. I am not fully sane anymore, and I am OK with that, because it amuses my children. The find it funny when I get a little erratic and silly. Besides my not as frequent yoga sessions in front of my TV or the new Zumba classes I started last month, I try to focus on positive things and pretend the stressful stuff doesn't exist. I am not in denial. I know it is still there, but why worry about it if I can't do anything to fix it right now? You know the phrase "let it go?" Well, I have adopted that and put it into action. I let it go far away and don't think of it if I don't have to. Irresponsible you say? Maybe. But I'm trying to save my mental health here. What's left of it anyway. Do you know how expensive wrinkle cream is? Does it even work?  Hakuna Matata. Don't worry be happy. Aren't those famous songs for a reason? I think there's a hidden message in there somewhere.