homesick

I am taking a day off. Two, actually. I can't tell what is wrong with me and won't take the time to list my symptoms, but let it be known that I am tired of medicine. Tired to death of pills. There is a new one on my growing list and I don't want to take it and I don't think I will. I know what ails me: an appetite bigger than I am. I hate diets. I hate dieters. I hate plans for living that are "not diets." I hate new ideas about food like paleo and gluten free and all the other shit that makes fat women act special at food events. As my terrible doctors keep saying: Eat less, move more. I hate simple solutions to complex problems. I like quick fixes and immediate gratification. There..Jesus.

My house is torn to bits. I have no home. We have stairs emerging from the ceiling, now, and a proper way to move items between floors. I think we finally actually, almost have a two story house with a basement. More to decorate, which would seem like bliss if I felt better. So, I am not at home at home.Clearly, this is destabilizing for me.

It is spring already, and this also concerns me. I know the foolhardiness of a false spring and planting early. I've murdered my fair share of tiny baby flowers. But this year, this evidence of climate change year, has had a false spring so long that the first day of spring is coming Saturday. I think it was less a false spring than a non-winter. My daphne is done, in fact, we're getting a second bloom; the bulbs are up and confused, the lilac is holding out for the right date, I think. She is the wiser of my perrenials.

My husband has nearly survived his time off and the surgery. He does more than he should, but he also seems more and more like the guy I married. It is good to see glimpses of him.