Nearly $300,000 of medical school education (more or less), and this is what they’re being taught. This explains A LOT about certain types of doctors. As a woman, I KNOW I’m not taken as seriously as my male counterparts. I find that disgusting and disrespectful. I’ve also found, over time, that female doctors are a lot less compassionate and caring, and genuinely don’t listen to me as well as they should. Obviously, some of that might depend on other factors, but overall, this is an important article.
I am going silent on Twitter in support of women starting today. I will update all posts that haven’t been added to the feed when the boycott lifts.
In the meantime, feel free to join me over on Instagram (message me for the info if you don’t already have it, or simply leave a comment here with your Instagram and I will follow you.) where much hilarity ensues. 🙂
***Potential Trigger Warning***
Friday night, I stupidly read my new diagnosis for the first time. And then I sat here in tears. The old diagnosis, which I’ve had for a long time, is clearly nowhere near as serious as the new one. My doctor isn’t even sure how it ever even fit because he doesn’t see it, and I do think it’s a case of having fresh eyes and a fresh perspective, as well. He did NOT try to box me in, but he answered me because I asked. I needed to know what the hell this was.
The new diagnosis basically states that nearly 60% of sufferers, or more, as it ranges from country-to-country, die by suicide, regardless of age. I was stunned into terrified silence.
I have always said I didn’t want to be a statistic, but reading the documentation; I feel like one.
As I stated previously, there are no treatment options left. I can wait ten years and hope a medication is approved by the FDA, but mostly, I am on my own. I cannot fathom ten more minutes like this, leave alone ten years, or longer. Hope is kind of futile at this point for me.
There’s a person in my life (heretofore to be referred to as “The Idiot”) who cannot think about anything but the future. I suggested they take things one day at a time during a stressful period, so as to help them help themselves focus, and they told me their “brain doesn’t work that way. That they must constantly look ten, twenty, and thirty years ahead”. I was astounded by the insanity of that. Especially knowing that there is a strong possibility they might not live that long. I take everything one hour at a time. It helps keep me focused. It keeps me in the moment, because I don’t have a crystal ball and quite frankly, I am not looking that far ahead. Nor do I care to do so. For me, life just doesn’t have that level of longevity any more. Truth be told, it never did. I always knew that.
There’s something very difficult, and exceptionally disheartening, about reading something on paper and realizing that every hope and dream you’ve ever had has been impossible to achieve because it’s likely never been meant to be. All the things you’ve wanted for yourself aren’t going to happen because something serious is interfering with all of it. It’s NOT you, it’s an incurable illness you never asked for and it’s destroyed your life immeasurably.
Thus far, I’ve only managed to tell two friends. One told me I needed to fight so I could stick around and “help keep her sane”. She means well, but that wasn’t the answer I needed to hear. I intentionally withheld the info from someone who I am afraid will be triggered by this. She has been through enough and I cannot be responsible for my health affecting hers. Other people might be triggered by this information, so while I am not disclosing what the actual diagnosis is, I am telling each of them in my own way.
I will not be discussing this diagnosis with close family members. I know that none of them care. I have slowly started to see their selfish, self-absorbed, self-righteous natures and I find it utterly despicable. I am grateful that I do not resemble a single member of my family and that we possess almost none of the same character traits. They live on their own planets, and I live in reality.
It hurts me deeply that out of everyone in my family, I would be the one afflicted like this while everyone else is allowed to live a normal life, or as close to a normal life as possible. It feels like the cruelest curse in the world. That’s not jealousy talking; that’s honesty. One illness is enough of a burden, but for me to have spent the majority of my life suffering is pure evil. To have to battle all of this alone makes it so much worse.
I have chosen to take a pass on all things temporary. I don’t need that in my life. If someone cannot be permanent or semi-permanent, then I don’t need them right now. I need solid support all across the board. I don’t have time for games or bullshit. I will be informing my doctor of that before he leaves. He can pass that message on because I know after we talk, he’s going to be very concerned. I don’t care how I sound or come off this time because I’m not here to worry about his feelings. He can contact my primary if he’s concerned, or whomever, but that isn’t going to make a difference at this point. I refuse to see the doctor he wants me to see. I’ve had terrible experiences with certain types of physicians and while this doctor might be wonderful, I don’t have any trust to offer this person. I will look for someone else when I’m ready. There’s a six month wait for anyone permanent, so I am going to inform the “temp” when she calls me that until she finds someone permanent, I am not interested. I cannot sit with a temporary person and build anything with them. That’s not how I operate. It’s an absolute waste of time. I’d rather talk to Cat and Kitten, both of whom pretty much ignore me these days unless the treat bag shakes or they hear me in the kitchen and think food might be involved. I could leave for six months, they wouldn’t notice, so long as they were fed twice a day.
I don’t think anyone cares to notice how unsupportive they are being. If you’re a shiny, happy person, you want to surround yourself with others like you. You don’t want to delve into the darkness and look deeply at someone with depth. That’s fine. I am better off without your bullshit. What you send out into the world comes back to you threefold. I listen to people and I give with my whole heart. I care, even when no one else bothers to do so. Faced with something that cannot be cured or fixed in any way, I am able to fully see how cruel and hateful people really are. And I am closing ranks in terms of my friendships and the people I consider to be anything in my life at this moment. I cannot imagine not reaching out to someone and offering support, but as I have noticed, people truly DO live on their own planets. I am walking around with the pin from everyone’s hand grenade. They just don’t know it yet.
For the record: I’m not stupid, or blind. I noticed the drop in subscribers the second I was super honest in my last few posts. When am I NOT honest? I’m not going to apologize to ANYONE because there IS a trigger warning for those who cannot handle anything too deep. I get it; we all have our issues, which is precisely why there was a warning. If you see a trigger warning, STOP READING. Come back when I’m discussing something funny and lighthearted. In all fairness, it was the first time I’d ever used a trigger warning in four years, so please, give me a break. This is MY safe space and I am going to be as honest as necessary here. You can stick with me or you can unfollow or unsubscribe. I’m not going to chase you down the street. I’m not desperate. I know who my readers are.
For every two people that disappear, twenty more show up and thank me for being honest and sharing my story so that they don’t feel ashamed in sharing theirs. I have received more love from Twitter followers than from any other social media platform I use.
I’m going to keep being me. I’m going to keep advocating to the best of my ability for change and I am going to keep speaking my truth and telling my story. I’m not going to allow others to stigmatize my pain or what I have been through. You can read my work, but ultimately, you don’t know me. You know a small percentage of what I share, but the people who’ve been with me for years and years, those are the people who know just how real I am. The people who’ve met me and spent time with me know who I am. The people who text me daily know who I am. The people who can call me at three a.m. for anything know who I am. The select few who get to share certain aspects of my life are the people who have made an effort to be a real friend to me, and for that, I’ll always be grateful.
You can sit and judge me ’til kingdom come for being honest, but the fact of the matter is, you have NO fucking idea what it takes for me to get out of bed each day, so please, judge yourself first. No matter what I face, you’re probably not as strong as me. I’m not ashamed of my reality, and I won’t allow anyone to make me feel bad for things outside of my control.
copyright © 2017 Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
If you’ve excommunicated, dismissed, rejected, “broken up”, “divorced”, or tossed a person from your life, no matter who that person may be, then I see absolutely NO reason in hell for you to troll their Facebook page, Twitter account, Instagram, Pinterest, website, blog, or any other form of social media looking for updates or insight as to how their life is without you in it. In fact, I find the behavior utterly pathetic. Why am I mentioning this? Because I’ve got a few trolls and I can’t stand the hypocrisy.
If you don’t want me in your life, that’s fine. Don’t let the door hit you where the Good Lord split you, but don’t think I don’t know when you’re reading my work. I have tracking software and I know your IP address. Who the fuck do you think you’re fooling?!
When I let someone go from my life, that’s it. Done means DONE. It doesn’t mean I check in on them via social media, it means I’m DONE. I will always keep what they’ve told me private because that’s how I roll, I will not discuss them by name to anyone, but do I feel the need to cyber stalk them? No. I mourn the loss of the relationship and I move forward. I was fine before you and I will be fine after you. Eventually I might even forget their name (Okay, that’s not true. Their name goes on a list to send to my Bolverk. Anyone who understands that reference gets ten points.), but I stand firm in my decision. Some people are meant to pass through your life and show you things, they’re not meant to be a permanent staple. Live and let live.
I find it disturbing when people, even in a minor way, feel the need to troll another person’s life. When someone treats me like shit and then disappears, I know it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with their own shortcomings and issues. I don’t see the point in a person like that continuing to read my work. What the hell are you expecting to find? Because if you’d like your name, address, phone/cell number, and/or Social Security Number listed on my header, I have news for you: No one is important enough for me to be so bothered. I have a life. It’s not the life of Jennifer Lopez or Bill Gates, but it is still a life and I do not feel the need to be vengeful because you’re deranged. Once again: Life was fine before you and it’s moving along at a steady pace without you. Unlike your imagination, the world does not revolve around you or your role, or lack thereof, in my life.
I respect and value my friends/friendships. I hold them in very high regard. If you blow the opportunity to be a part of that, it’s 100% on you. I let it fly because you cannot keep friends who don’t want to be kept and you cannot force people into friendships when they have ulterior motives or they come into a friendship with trust issues stemming from the past. I can only be myself. Loyal, present, and real. I am not going to change to make other people more comfortable. I don’t need to put myself in a small box because a few people can’t handle the fact that I am a strong personality who won’t eat shit politely with a knife and fork.
You either want me in your life or you don’t. I let you make your own decisions, and then I decide if I value you enough to allow you to return. If you don’t want me in your life, but you’re entertained by my pain, stop fucking trolling places you have no business being. That’s not “being a good person”, that’s being a hypocrite. May God explain the difference to you because you clearly have the common sense of a beach ball.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
“Speaker Of Powerful Words” was recently added to my professional bio. It makes me laugh because I don’t always realize how much power I put into the words I use. If you heard how I say things in my everyday life, you’d quickly learn it’s not any different from how I apply my voice to the written word.
One of the things I like about myself the most is that I don’t have dual-personalities. The way I write is the same way I speak in every format possible. Be it e-mail, letters, text messages, phone calls; I remain the same. It’s one of the things my closest friends have pointed out to me, and it’s one of the things they most love and respect about me.
Not everyone can handle unadulterated honesty or unfiltered realness. I, occasionally, struggle with the things people say to me when they are said with malice, disrespect, or a severe lack of clarity. 95% of the time, I wouldn’t say something with malicious intent to someone I care about. The tiny back-end percentage would be higher, but you haven’t met my extended family. I’d believe I was adopted if I didn’t know with absolute certainty that I wasn’t. I used to dream of being rescued by my “real parents” for many years, but now I know that the only person who can rescue me is…me.
Words do have incredible power. It’s important to use your words wisely, even if, on occasion, it turns you into a hypocrite. No one is perfect and there are often moments in life where we don’t always practice what we preach, or follow the path we’ve personally suggested.
People often come to me with problems. They require advice and they need a trusted ear. I almost always find that they’re struggling between logic and intuition. As someone who lives an intuitive based life, I struggle with their issues because no matter what I say, they desperately want to see the good in the behavior of others, even when they’re being hurt and disrespected, or worse. I don’t care what other people may think: Good does not reside in the heart and soul of every single person in this world. Hell, jails are full of rapists, murderers, and all sorts of living proof, but it clearly bears repeating. Not everyone is good, not everyone has good intentions, and not everyone is 100% genuine. It’s sad, but it’s a fact.
In life, I take everything and everyone on a case-by-case basis. I can be a really nice person (No, I’m not kidding. Get to know me.), but if I’m shown the ugliest side of someone, the niceness goes away in 0.1 seconds. If you throw the “bitch card’ at me, you’re showing me an ugly side that isn’t something I respect. If you break it out once and I never see it again, I move on, the relationship continues in whatever form it resides in, but I will NEVER forget that I saw it. There’s a reason Scorpio is attached to my on-line profile, it’s not just my astrological sign; I can and will see through your bullshit. I have the power to sting, and I’m incredibly self-aware. I cannot unhear or unsee red flags, whatever they may be. I attribute that to being intuitive and living my life based on sensory perception.
I don’t understand people who will spit on you and tell you it’s raining. I don’t understand passive-aggressive people who turn the tiniest comment into the issue of the century. Far too many people struggle with difference of opinion. It’s their way or the highway. Unfortunately, they don’t understand that life is full of grey area. I’m a person of extremes, but I spend a lot of time in the grey, so I understand it maybe too well. I am baffled by people who refuse to expand their own minds and learn. How else do you grow? The stagnant life is pitiful indeed.
Whenever I see “Speaker Of Powerful Words” on my bio, I feel as though it comes with immense responsibility. People talk a lot about athletes being role models for our children, but WE should be role models for our children and our children’s children. We should be the teachers who inspire them with words and actions to be better people. There is an exceptionally long list of ways to go about that.
I believe it’s important not to treat children like babies and talk to them like they’re morons. By all means, allow them to have their childhood, but do not be afraid to tackle the tough stuff. Uninformed children, or children that spend their entire lives being lied to by their parents, become insecure and completely unsure of themselves with age. They lack much-needed self-confidence. I have seen this carry over into adulthood, so please, avoid the bullshit and be real.
No one ever spoke “baby talk” to me, so when I started speaking, I spoke in full sentences. That was one of the ways I knew that adults took me seriously. I wasn’t encouraged to be the “next President of the United States” (who the hell would want that job?! No one sane!), but all of my talents were fostered.
My athletic ability was not ignored. I spent a huge chunk of my life as a gymnast, starting at age 4. Later on when my voice teacher called my mother and told her that I could sing, really sing, and that she wanted to tutor me privately, I got voice lessons. To this day, I still sing.
When my writing ability became my voice, it was not ignored. I was enrolled in a performing arts school at the time because of my singing, but every English, History, and Science teacher was completely blown away by me. I have incredibly fond memories of them and how encouraging they were of me. They all wanted me to move on and shine.
When I moved on to major in journalism and creative writing, that’s when I came upon my first real critic. When a professor tells you you’re “ruining the class” because of what you write and tells you he will continue to fail you until you drop the class, you can either keep going or you can laugh. I did both. He’d belittle me three times a week and I’d go home laughing because I was being published for thinking outside the box. In a room full of roughly 30 of the best writers in that part of New York City at the time, he singled me out constantly. Nothing I wrote was ever “good enough”. It only made me better. It gave me incredible vision for the future.
The years have come and gone and I have yet to meet someone who agrees with him. And if I did…I’d laugh.
I may not be everyone’s cup of coffee or tea, and that is perfectly acceptable to me, but at the end of each day, I am a speaker of powerful words. I salute you for reading my work and clicking LIKE.
Enjoy the updated bio and by all means, feel free to follow me on Twitter. Anyone that would also like to connect with me on Facebook can message me.
Thank you to #ChiropracticDaily for featuring my second article on migraines. It is most appreciated.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I’ve decided that today is going to be a work-free day.
I went to bed this morning sick as a dog. I suspect my brief time out yesterday affected me more severely than it ought to. Within a few hours of coming home, I got my fourth migraine of the week. I took a brief nap and I wasn’t entirely okay afterward, but now? UGH!
Sadly, with migraines, you often question whether you did something wrong, ate the wrong thing, etc. All I did was go out in tremendous heat for an hour and a half and come home. It wasn’t a lot of physical exertion, but my body says otherwise. I had a mild headache upon returning, but it wasn’t until I actually felt pain in my head that I took something for it. By 7:30, as my neighbors attempted to power wash something right near my bedroom window, I contemplated outright murder. My ears simply cannot bear the noise, and what are they up to at this precise moment? Yard work. At 9:23 a.m. On a Saturday. When it’s already 85 degrees and a heat advisory has been issued for the entire area, AGAIN. Schools actually closed early yesterday, if they opened at all, because it was over 100 degrees with the humidity and people were experiencing breathing problems. But hey, dumb & dumbest need to make noise on a yard that requires no work at all this week. This is where I would like to point out that I refrained from putting #TheyNeedToBeShot. I’m not a violent person…just don’t make noise when I’m sick or on any day ending in a y.
As a direct result of this migraine/heat/stomach agony, I’m trying to decompress this morning. I’d rather be asleep, but I desperately need to hit the grocery store. Not a fun task, I do not look forward to this, but I am going to try going once it cools down. There’s no point in making myself any sicker by attempting to do it early on in the day. Everyone and their grandmother will be there to capitalize on the digital coupon extravaganza, which has already turned into an epic fail because 9/4’s of the coupons don’t come off at the end of each order, which means customer service is inundated with questions as to why they didn’t work and precisely “Where are my savings? Are you going to give me my money back?” Actually, the store is set up to make sure you actually loaded the coupons on to your savings card in the first place. If you didn’t use the physical coupons that were also provided for the week, chances are you didn’t get the savings on those four items. I clipped all of my mine last night and will print up a few others later on. I’ve saved nearly $1000 this year alone in coupons at one store. That is a small accomplishment, but it feels good every single time I look at my receipt.
I’ve completed all of my work this week (though I am seemingly still loosely on the consulting job), except for the manuscript, which I will devote more daily time to next week in my attempt to complete it. I’m not looking forward to that, I’m simply tired of seeing it and knowing that it’s not complete. I do NOT relish the line of questioning that will come with the delivery, but since I stated in the contract how much time I will spend on answering questions before charging again for my time, I hope that will make the client aware that I mean business. It’s in black and white, how hard is it to follow guidelines?
Before I forget, I want to thank Writerstream for featuring my work this week, and I’d also like to give a huge shout out to the dozen or so new Twitter followers in the last 12 hours alone. (Special thanks to Lillian for encouraging me to join Twitter. Hugs sweet pea!) I never knew I’d grow to love it so much. To the friend that reads my Tweets and isn’t afraid to joke with me and laugh, I appreciate it. (You know who you are, doll!)
If you need me, I’ll be here for the next few hours. Drinking coconut water. Praying that it helps. If it doesn’t, I’m seriously considering an ER visit because this level of pain is out of control.
Have a great weekend everyone! And please, stay out of the heat and wear sunscreen.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
I intended to get some work done today. I am doing an editing job to help someone out from a writer’s group I previously belonged to. I am also doing an editing job because it’s my job to do so. However, with no set deadline, I found myself procrastinating on opening the file. I’ve already done several pages on it already and the author hasn’t stated when she wants or needs it back. Considering she’s just blown the last week, I don’t feel like I need to be putting in 10-12 hour days on it just yet. In turn, I feel no guilt whatsoever in taking it easy today.
I’ve answered almost all of my e-mails, no easy feat that. I’ve watched my British Bombay (a breed of solid black cat. The major difference between them and an American Bombay are the shape of their face, ears, and their eye color. Plus, she’s all mine and looks so sweet and innocent while curled up like a bum.) sleep in various positions in front of me. The little lamb chop purred all through her nail-clipping, as if she was being brushed instead of having her nails cut down by half. (It was long overdue. She’s been slippery in her methods of escaping me whenever she sees the handle of the special nail trimmer I have.) I tooled around with the new Twitter page for this platform, @PoisonPlatform. It’s not much at the moment, but it will get there, though it feels slightly pointless. And then, for actual fun, I watched Arrow, The Originals, and the last two episodes of Stalker, which I missed. Perhaps later I’ll watch something else. (Banshee, definitely Banshee.)
After more than a week of being the exact opposite of myself, I am thinking very sharply today and feeling next to no pain from the Fibromyalgia. A little back soreness, yes, but none of the severe pain from neck to toe that I feel every single day of my life. I’m sure it will return with a vengeance the second I think about it too much.
Monday is Imbolc/Groundhog Day. My one sign that Spring is around the corner is that the bunnies have returned to my backyard. They’re chewing away at the grass that has peeped up beneath the melting snow. Clearly they’ve been all over the yard, as the snow is chock full of bunny paw prints. CUTEST.THING.THIS.WEEK. The morning doves are also visiting regularly. The thought of fresh-cut grass sends me into a horrific sneezing fit, and yet I would welcome it over the somewhat Siberian temperatures. Siberia is in my blood, but knowing that it will be -10 with the wind chill doesn’t exactly do anything for me.
Originally I prepared a different post for today, but I want a few days to re-evaluate it (read: psychoanalyze it to death). It has the potential to make some people uncomfortable, which isn’t my intention, but philosophical and theological debates are quite interesting to me and I think it’s important to cover subject matter that is personally interesting, even if it might make a few people think a lot more closely than they normally do.
This is the first Super Bowl that I will probably miss. I’m a Patriots fan (and a New York Giants fan), but right now I’m about as interested in football as I am in watching snow melt. So long as everyone is safe, live and let live.
How are you spending your end-of-January/Super Bowl weekend? If it’s in Hawaii, do me a favor and skip the comments.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Break, Not Broken
I came into this world intolerant of fake people, lies, and bullshit. This has only become more pronounced as I’ve gotten older.
There are actual photos of me as a baby, newly home from the hospital, and the expression on my face is priceless. I know exactly what I was thinking in every single photo because the core of who I am has not changed. If I didn’t like the person holding me, it showed. If I thought someone was false, it showed. To this day, you can see a lot of what I’m thinking on my face, unless I’m using what is often called my “FBI face”. It’s an incredibly blank “I really don’t give a shit” face. It can come across bitchy, but it’s really me, completely uninterested. Unfortunately, I’ve been feeling like that a lot lately.
My thought process of late is blank. I’m incapable of listening to bullshit or tolerating much of anything. In fact, my tolerance level is zilch, so comment with caution.
Paying attention to anything for more than a few minutes at a time is actually intolerable. I catch myself spacing out when people talk to me. The only things I can listen to are 1) A baby’s cries and 2) A cat’s cries. In my maternal make-up, these sounds are the ONLY sounds that turn me into a fearless, it-doesn’t-matter-that-I-got-no-sleep-what’s-wrong kind of person. Everything else, right now, either makes me sick or makes me want to lock myself in a hole. I call it my “boiling point”. When I reach that level, it’s time to disengage from certain aspects of my life.
Obviously these are not normal patterns for me. I’ve lived a long time and haven’t hidden in a broom closet once, or any closet for that matter. I suspect we ALL want to walk away from life at times, just pick up and go somewhere for a year or so, and not be bothered by the bullshit of daily life. It’s normal and it’s okay to feel that way. And yet, I won’t go because I feel rooted by responsibilities.
Someone said to me last month “Not having a cell phone for a few months can be very freeing.” Amen to that, brother! When a phone rings, unless I already know who it will be, I cringe. It doesn’t matter if it’s my home phone or my cell, I visibly cringe. There are less than five people I will accept calls from, and only one person whose texts I look forward to because she constantly makes me laugh or encourages me, and I respect the supportive relationship I have with her (She knows who she is because we text a LOT.). Everything else in my life feels bleak. It feels like somewhere along the way, everything became deeply shaded in grey, and there is very little color.
I know what rock bottom feels like. This is similar, but it is emotionally different. As we get older, our emotions for certain things change and that is to be expected. Our reactions are no longer the reactions of a teenager or someone younger, but as adults, every person reacts differently.
I am often told I “think too much”, or I’m “too intense”, “too passionate”, etc. If you’re not passionate about something or someone, then what’s the point of living? If you don’t have passion, you cannot be intense about anything. If you don’t utilize the brain you are given by thinking and learning, then what’s the point of having one? Eventually, it all sounds less like “advice” and more like judgment, and lets face it, that’s exactly what it is.
Naturally people would prefer it if I were any number of things: Nicer, kinder, quieter, less vocal, less apt to open my mouth and let someone have it, etc. In the grand scheme, it makes me feel like the people in my life want me to be some soft, pathetic, whiny version of myself that I have NEVER been. I can’t tell you how many times a week someone says “Be nice.” or “That was mean.” I was honest, but apparently honesty is now considered “not nice” and “mean”. You’d think I publicly murdered puppies the way some people react to basic, every day language.
Do you want a “Yes person” around you 24/7? I don’t. It’s perfectly okay to disagree with me. Everyone is entitled to their own views and feelings. You don’t have to believe in a single thing that I believe in. You don’t have to like the things I like or watch something because I said it was fantastic. No one needs to blindly follow me. Liking me is not mandatory. In fact, I’d prefer respect over being liked. I lack the ability of making real words seems like they’ve been dipped in sugar. I can be a perfectly polite, nice person, yes, but if I disagree with something, I feel I am entitled to do so. Apparently my personality often makes other people afraid to the point where they feel they have to agree with me. Hearing that makes me nauseous because I know I don’t actually have that kind of power, but if I did, I’d use it for more important things.
Ultimately, I am burned out. Hopefully at some point within the next few months I will know precisely which direction my life is going in and be able to either go away for a while (even just a few weeks would be awesome. Sometimes a change of environment is the best thing for the soul.) or start planning a summer excursion. Anyone that would like to have me around for a while should let me know now. I’ll say anything for a laugh in my quest to be entertaining, I’m relatively low maintenance, and I cook, what more could you want?
P.S. I am begrudgingly working on a Twitter account for this page. In the meantime, you can follow me @LisaMMarino I just wouldn’t expect much right now, I’m still trying to figure it out.
copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.