I read the most horribly true thing the other day:

“Too many people use food as a pain killer when they should be using exercise as a anti-depressant.”

That ’bout sums it up.

We are on the brink of Spring, and the last patches of grey snow are lingering like an unwanted guest that just doesn’t take the hint, even though you have yawned demonstrably, done the dishes and talked in great detail about how early you have to get up.

It was another bitch of a winter. I feel this way every year around this time: Like I am hanging on to life with the skin of my teeth. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. (I am afraid to look in the archives, but I have a distinct feeling that I wrote all this before. More than once?)

This year with the added bonus of fear and self-loathing caused by a full blown crisis of the most painful and existentialist kind.

I am stuck trying to decide how to lead my best life. How to manage my talents. How to get all these conflicting things I want. How to prioritize how I spend my brief stint on Earth.

(Reading about Andrea, who ran into the wild, did not help, I’ll tell you that. Through all of this bullshit, my mantra has been “Keep calm and carry on” (I wore a button!), and then the bleedin’ woman says “I would like us, all of us, to question the status quo. To ask ourselves what is really necessary and not just mindlessly  ”Keep calm and carry on”. I didn’t sleep for days. But that’s a different post. Related, tho’.)

My inner voice is not kind. Why do I have to be so bloody complicated? Why don’t I have any ambitions? Why do I only know what I DON’t want?

(It’s kind of difficult to write this with my 3-year old dancing a naked version of Gangnam Style. Just as I was getting on a roll, he comes and makes me laugh. Whyyoulittle…)

So… I’ll leave you with a picture of me.



What do YOU think I should do with my life once I get my head out of my ass? Really. If you read this blog regularly, you’ll know me by now… I’m open for suggestions. You guess is a good as mine. Well, I’ll probably reject your ideas, as I have all of mine. But give it a go anyway.

Write below or mail me at mail[at]cindafuckingrella[dot]com



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