Itchy fingers

There are so many things I’d like to write about: last Sunday and the incredible trip I had with Zsolt, last night’s journey down PMS lane (where I morphed into the Incredible Hulk of hormone induced mood swings and nearly threw a broom out the window – it’s really a terrible broom), this morning’s trip to the mastectomy shop in the middle of an industrial zone where I tried on extra large A and B cup bras and couldn’t believe the drastic different in size compared to my normal bras – it’s just not right when a B cup bra can also fit the entire top of my head, yesterday’s drive through the New Forest with Carole followed by tea in her beautiful garden, my afternoon visit to Ulrike’s and her magical yard of relaxation and picnic tables, the surprise email from my aunt providing a very generous gift for my mom’s peace of mind, or even sipping tea at Trago Lounge with my mother and working out chemo issues – trying to get myself ready for next week’s new adventure . . .

There are so many things to write about. It’s exhausting to consider. And that paragraph must have been exhausting to read. Sooner than later I’ll steal some time to write a proper post.  Sooner. I really need to write again. Much sooner. I also really need to start drawing. My fingers are itching from the inactivity. The creative part of my mind is banging it’s head against the wall.

Time is such a precious thing. I’m craving it more than ever. Tonight or tomorrow. I NEED to start writing.