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Lesley Logan's avatar

Oh boy, I love the title and how you didn't underline the pun, just left it gently rummaging through the trash. I have not realized, yea, after all this time we have been acquainted, that you are quite as nuts as you have confessed to being in a number of essays. I do feel, and think, and act very much the same (so many of us do) but since I have so little bandwidth left in my brain, and also I've have been-there-done-that for 30 more years than you that I don't make as many plans for self improvement, and thus don't beat myself up for not sticking to the trails, the bike, the yoga, the morning smoothie, even the once-obsessive need for neatness all around me. Used to be that if there was chaos in the house, it was mirrored in my head. Intensely. Painfully. Now I can go a lot longer ignoring the piled up papers or mail or scattered shoes--for a while. Still, an unmade bed is an invitation to look into the abyss, maybe fall into it, or make reservations for the lock-up--any lock-up will do, as long as it inspires me to get that bed made. And I'm too old to plan a new me, so that's one less thing. But I sure do remember the punishing persistence of the thoughts and feelings you describe here. I don't want to go down that path so maybe I should get out on some torture trail, and be healed by Mother Earth. But god, WHAT a hassle! Best to lie down until the urge passes. Great work, love you.

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