I am overwhelmingly tired today.

I want to go somewhere.

I want a date with my spouse.

I want to go back to bed.





Chocolate? A slice of pie? Attention?

Maybe I just need some sleep.

Rant done.


Set a time limit on negativity.

There is wisdom here. Make room for allowing, then move on. “Just keep moving”, even if it means moving towards a moment in meditation. Good words, from Dr. Dinardo.

Thriving Under Pressure

Time is in such short supply. The sooner we appreciate its value, the better life becomes.

When I was a kid my mom set the egg timer for almost everything we did; whether it was how long we spent doing our homework, weeding the garden, watching television, or complaining about life’s challenges.

It helped us to understand that nothing lasts forever – good or bad.

This was especially important when we felt helpless over things we did not have control over, including chores we  did not want to do.

Setting time limits also taught us to respect how our words and actions impact ourselves and others.

Full disclosure: My mom is also a psychologist.💖

Your time. Your life.

To this day I set a timer on the stove.

A simple, yet effective way to motivate myself through tedious tasks and become more mindful of time itself.

The timer principle can…

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Addiction Additions.

Apparently, alcohol has company.

I was given the suggestion of having “lollies” around. I assume the idea was to grab one when a craving hit, which was more often than not, even compared to when I was drinking.

I have ate more candy and ice cream in the last month than I care to admit. I have gained weight not because the scale tells me so, but my jeans, yes even the stretchy skinny jeans, are getting quite snug to the point that I’d rather just stay inside and at home, so I can wear comfy trendy yoga pants.

And with Halloween so close, the mountain of available bootie is comparable to Everest. If I keep this up, the only climbing I’ll be able to do is likely from the car to the clinic door so for sugar detox.

I also find myself drinking pop (we call soda “pop” up here in the Great White North), like it’s suppose to be a treat. I don’t even drink soda, usually, though I have admittedly purchased a frozen Vernor’s at 7-11 maybe two times since I discovered it.

STOP! I hear my body’s mind exclaiming, loud and clear. DAMN.

I am consciously aware that I am filling one addiction’s need with other addictive substances.


Breathe. Center. Ground.








9/11 was the day I thought I was going to die. I was very sick. It was the first day I didn’t drink in a long time. It was the beginning of the end and the end is always a beginning.

Five days later, I spoke to a friend and we discussed my conscious decision to Walk the Recovery Path. Both dates are a sort of birthday, 9/11 and 9/16. I’ll always remember both as the beginning of the end that started my new beginning.

Happy Day 30, October 11.





So many books, so little time!

This was a year ago. Now my books are double-stacked or Kindles. Talk about addiction. At least this is a healthy addiction? 😉


I was looking at Goodreads lists related to Oberon Zell’s Grimoire and suddenly, I was on Amazon adding more books to my list.

I try to pick up my fiction at the library, which saves money; because I am certainly running out of room short of buying yet another bookcase. (I added 2 bookcases to my hubbies’ office already!)

Oh well. This is not a tragedy. Nope!