control yourself

Went to the doctor yesterday for what seems most likely a spasmodic *bladder.

*I typed this up on my phone and it auto-corrected the word ‘bladder’ to ‘bladderwort,’ but it’s like, if technology is so smart/great, it would know to auto-correct ‘uterus’ to carnivorous plant instead, amirite?

Anyway, something about cutting out caffeine, drinking more water, and the possibility of physical therapy for my bladder. I lol’d as I rolled up my sleeve to reveal a visible indicator of my reliance on caffeine – a tattoo of its molecular structure.

Sooo yeeaaa. The upping of the water is going to have to be a thing, but can people live without their lifeblood…? My sources point to no, as I sit here typing and getting my fill.

After my appt., my smalls and I went and watched a documentary about our national parks where I literally bawled like a baby because I just feel so deeply when it comes to that sh*t.

I mean, the combination of John Muir quotes and incredible landscapes and a piano cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah is pretty much a guarantee that you will need to pick me up off the floor.


Ok, so quit coffee and/or quit crying.

(Lolol, I’m going to die.)



“Time isn’t a straight line, it’s all…bumpy-wumpy. There’s loads of boring stuff. Like Sundays and Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. But now and then there are Saturdays – big, temporal tipping points when anything’s possible.”

Liiiike, eating your Apple Jacks with a fork while your coffee brews into the drip-tray of your Kuerig because you forgot to grab a mug, I dunno.


FYI, and for my own, I guess, I submitted some night sky pictures to an astronomy magazine last night because I’m still doing that “putting myself out there” thing – even though it’s yielding no results. And even though my night sky pictures are sub-par, at best.

Gaaaaahhhhhkdjfahgkvj. (That’s the sound I make every time I hit ‘send’ on a submission email because I’m mostly like “WHAT AM I EVEN DOING!? NO ONE WANTS TO SEE/READ THAT!”)


Unrelated: My husband likes to call Wednesdays “Buck Wednesdays” because it’s the one day a week he treats himself to Starbucks – other than the occasional Saturday – and so I copied him and got myself a vanilla macchiato and took my little homies to the library.

Speaking of my children – they’re so cool. And probably every mom feels that way about their children, and it need not be said, but we go to the library and they pick out bird-watching books and local geology books and shark books and I’m just so proud of their big, inquisitive brains.

Then we get home and my youngest daughter is all “I used my ear wax as lotion, I hope that’s fine with you.”