I had horrible nightmares about giraffes the night before last and I was also some sort of refugee. I cried instead of blogging yesterday morning. These nightmares must stop. I have anti-anxiety sleeping pills from my doctor but really don't want to take them. I am sure I'm working things out in my dreams but I must have some sort of alienation trauma since I dream of being a refugee so much. I seem to always be seeking my home.
Tomorrow night is my publication party at The Ink Spot. I am a little bit nervous. I feel like a kid who has planned a big birthday party for herself and is worried no one will show up. No nerves Lizz! Get a hold of yourself!
I had an interesting cleanse yesterday. I won't go into detail but I may have to write a funny piece about it at some point. It was strangely fascinating and disturbing at the same time. The things we put ourselves through in the name of health. Today I go to the chiropractor. I'm really into taking care of my body these days. Except that I started drinking whiskey again.
I get to pick up my chapbooks this morning.
Walk On By