I'm a Whiny Puke. I'm Sorry.

I'm in a bit of a funk today. I put myself on a strict candida diet because my normally wonky hormones are wonkier than usual. And that's not good, considering the usual wonkiness often causes my head to spin around and venom to spew. So picture that and then some. Uh huh.

I was going to make an appointment to see my crazy, holistic boob doc in Madison - (what, I haven't mentioned him before? Hmm, that's a story in itself) - as he's working with me to get my hormones in balance after a (story hint:) breast cancer scare. But then I realized that he'd ask me a round of questions, including this one: "What are you eating?" And I hate it when he asks me that question.

He'd like me on a very strict whole-foods diet, and to say that I've veered a bit off the path is like saying the war in Iraq is going, um, just as planned.

Anyhoo, what I'm saying is this: I know deep down that it's not right for me to ignore a good portion of what my doctor suggests and then go looking for his help. He's already offered me help - it's up to me to take it. Grumble grumble harrumph.

But this diet... oh this diet... let me tell you what I am. I'm starving is what I am. And Sharon, please quit laughing, you're mean to me. Sharon goes on this diet frequently because she has health concerns of her own, and when I text her asking if I can eat this or that, she texts back things like "Nice try - no." The booger.

It's basically like going on a fast or some sort of cleanse. Put nothing into your body that isn't whole, and allow it to cleanse itself of toxins and build-up and imbalances such as yeast overgrowth.

Hello, you still there?

But like fasting or cleansing, it also makes you irritable. I mean the "I can't stand to watch you chew, please get away from me now" kind of irritable. And that isn't fun for anyone, is it Rob. (Your sympathies can be sent along to rob@youpoorschmuck.com.)

There are other things irritating me today. I have low energy. (Thanks again, d*mn diet!) No matter how often I swat, there are flies in my house. And because it's fall they're doing that sort of slow death-thing they do where they get clingy and slow and land on you, like, every other second. (Just what I need, something clingy.)

Also, I got stung by a wasp yesterday and mother-**** did that hurt. It stung me right behind the knee and it's red and swollen, so everytime I bend my knee.. ouch ouch OUCH you g*d d*mn wasp! Oh, and I have my twenty-year class reunion tonight. With the mood I'm in, that should go swimmingly.

But recognizing that this funk is doing no one, least of all me Rob and the boyz, any good, I decided to do something about it. What did I do? This:

If you need a kick in the pants, a reminder to pay attention, to breathe, to be mindful, to quit feeling sorry for your d*mn self (ok, I added that part), read this book.

I got my signed copy sent from Patti herself, after my essay was chosen for part of her 37 days blog countdown. I've been reading it ever since, treasuring every word. It is filled with quotes and I LOVE quotes - anything that can pack a punch in only a few words is always, to me, sheer brilliance. And it's filled with artwork sent by readers and wisdom and suggested actions and humor. It's good, good stuff.
I took the book, a glass of water, and a bowl of - lucky me - celery sticks to my sunny deck and began to read. It only took about a half sentence to wake me out of my pity party.

Dear Patti - It's not quite finished yet, but I'm polishing my mud ball. Thanks.

Want in on the secret? Get the book, already, yo!

*~*~*~*~*~*
Patti Digh will be in Madison, WI at A Room of One's Own Feminist Bookstore on Friday, October 03, at 6:30 PM. I'm going to try like h*ll to get there. Wanna meet up?