My WTH Burrito

Sit around with friends, play music, and laugh.  That pretty much happened last night now that I think about it.  It was really fun.  It was a rehearsal for the church band, or at least this week's band since we have such a pile of musicians that there is a different rotation every week.  And since the regular leader isn't going to be there, it worked out that 5 of the people on the rotation this week are or have been worship leaders, so we all knew our stuff or at least worked it out pretty quickly.  Good, times.  Plus, I got some time with another tired Momma friend on the team before and after rehearsal which was double bonus.  And the nose bleed I sang myself during rehearsal was very very minor.  That's what I get for being out of practice.  Standing and breathing huge amounts will apparently do that to you if you've been a couch pillow for a couple of months.  Probably the fact that I was still recovering from Sunday's huge choir-lights migraine didn't help.  I haven't told the worship leader yet that I am quitting choir eternally, but I don't think he'll mind.  I don't think I care.  Bright lights suck, they trigger migraines.  Not sure how that's going to work being a stage musician.  WTH?

I feel like that's my mantra lately, WTH?  It's a combination of protest mixed with carrying on mixed with genuine confusion wrapped in sarcasm topped with a small dollop of acceptance, eaten every day with a scream/grunt of frustration.  My WTH burrito.  Luckily WTH is gluten free, so...at least that.  I don't know what the solution is to my constant stress and frustration lately, maybe to stop screaming when I eat?  September was...cinderblocks.  Not just hard but concrete and terrible, grotesque in a world that should be green and fluid.  So when October came there was no motivation, there was almost no recovery.  Only now past the middle of October am I thinking of recovering, reclaiming what life I had before and in August, amazing and beautiful.  Only now since the two serious migraine days this month that came during hormone week, after the devil choir-lights fiasco am I trying to place life back into the categories: With Migraine, and Without Migraine vs: Just Always Migrainey.  WTH?  It seems too much work, gaining so much beautiful ground only to have it destroyed by a lumpy greasy cinderblock or 5.  *sigh*  But slowly it grows, the hope.  I have nothing better to do with my time anyway but slowly regrow the green and the hope that still hasn't gone back in the closet, even 'though it's nearly cluttered off the nightstand by flecks and chips of cinderblock dust and papers from the kids' schools telling me about all the things I'm not participating in.  Speaking of hope, let's talk about boys.

I have been forced to talk about boys a lot lately, through no fault of my own.  I've been threatened a blind date, and people have been asking about the girls' dad.  Again, WTH?  Stupid boys...one boy I know has a friend who won't come and see him from out of town unless one boy gets him a blind date.  So one boy tries to set me up on a blind date with his friend from out of town.  Are you kidding me?!?  I'm not opposed to meeting boys.  I am opposed to going on blind dates with boys with such stipulations, call it whatever you want.  And to be stupid honest, I have hope for my life in general that it won't always completely suck; I don't have much hope that I won't always be single.  It wavers between absolutely no hope and almost no hope.  It was a long shot to begin with, me being weird and independent, a tomboy, a leader, stubborn among other things.  Then I chose an admitted complete failure (hindsight) who could not/would not keep up his end of the whole marriage bargain and after giving it my all Anyway until I had beyond nothing left and he was endangering the kids with his carelessness and feeding them things they were allergic to over and over (and over), I took them and left.  I should have left so much sooner.

But seriously, how do you hope to start a new relationship when you have to eat like a cult leader, nap like a diaper baby, and have zero energy just for starters?  It is laughable.  I laugh at the notion.  I must laugh at it and scorn it and walk all over it because to do anything else is ridiculous.  Worthy of ridicule.  But this is fine with me and not a WTH, because I don't need the drama, as much as I would love for my girls to have a Father who is present and worth his salt.  For as much as I have always found it easier to relate to boys than girls and have always had a lot of boy friends, I seem to pick real losers past the friend stage.  I guess that's a little bit WTH?  But unlike losing the wheat from our diet, this is not something I mourn.  Perhaps I trust God more with our long-term well being than our day-to-day suffering.  Hm.  So um, anyway...I finally got the action lowered on my new guitar, Heath Rogers.  I also put some new strings on him, and omg, does he sound pretty now without murdering my fingers!  So there is a boy in my life I can deal with.  I happen to be playing him next week in the church band too, possibly with sunglasses on, we'll see if I survive this week without a migraine and a nosebleed.  Because WTH?!?