I binged yesterday. Except I didn’t. That is, I binged, but it was a regular binge, not a bulimia binge. The difference is in quality and quantity, both important factors. Quantity especially. When it comes to numbers, a bulimic binge can be a different kind of animal. [i] I remember listening to my friends as they talked about their pig-out sessions. A whole bag of … Continue reading I binged yesterday.
What do you call a writer who doesn’t write? In my case, you could call her a gardener. Except, I don’t do much gardening either. Bits and pieces here and there, which is most of my life these days. A bit of this, a bit of that. It’s not that I can’t stay on task – a common enough problem when my neuroses are acting … Continue reading Pain, pain, pain, complain.
I tend to leak tears when I’m angry, upset, or frustrated: it’s one of the most annoying things about being female. It even trumps the random black hairs that show up on my chin. [i] There you are, making a point, presenting a rebuttal, or holding your space when suddenly, your voice cracks. You sniff because your nose has started to run. You realize tears … Continue reading Sneaky science: tears and congestion.
Originally posted on From Famine to Feast:
i feel like i’m perched on the edge of a blade, balanced there. it’s fragile, and tenuous, and there are circling monsters all around. it would take little to send me over and i’m tired. i’m so tired of the fight. it’s fatiguing when you’ve been fighting for years, and you do all the right things, and you… Continue reading On the edge of a knife .
From Famine to Feast 