But, after several days of darker than usual thoughts, tempered by the committment to transform them with a healthier mind set, I rose today with a positive agenda of optimistic strategies to replace the dour menu from which I've recently been choosing.
After a weekend with a heightened terror alert in the two cities on earth which, coincidentally, possess a disproportionate number of people I care about as well as reports of strong undertows on a beach where both my sons would be frolicking, I spent the weekend in a state of gibbering stress.
Those unfortunate enough to receive phone calls I made during this period, will attest to that.
I did, however, based on what was available in the fridge and freezer, create a noteworthy anti-anxiety concoction that deserves to be shared with mankind.
A delicious treat reminiscent of an old-fashioned ice cream soda, it consists of two generous scoops of Breyer's fat free vanilla ice cream floating in a sea of Mike's Hard Lemonade, flavor of berry.
I call it "The Chillax."
Goodbye old fashioned root beer floats. Hello delicious elixir of not caring what Diane Sawyer is tearing up over on the world news tonight. Make yourself one of these before you go on air, Diane, you'll feel better.
But back to Monday morning...
With my new attitude precariously in place, here I was---blogging away, laughing indulgently at my own jokes when a distraction occurred.
Distractions, these days, make me totally forget what I was doing prior to their occurrence, regardless of external clues. Ex. "Hmmm....why is this toothbrush in my hand and the cap off the toothpaste? What could I have been up to?"
This morning's distraction was the phone ringing.
It was my daily phone chat with Seth. We briefly discussed his commute after which he submits to his daily instructions which include reminders to be sure to eat lunch, drive carefully and not, despite his inclination, pick up any prostitutes (kidding...Jennifer, your brother does not pick up prostitutes.....anymore).
But after I hung up, for some reason, as if it were part of a strategy for efficiency, I hit the delete key and the nearly completed blog post disappeared.
My go-to response was, of course, shock, rage, swearing and ultimately, despair.
And, it was the second time in less than 24 hours I'd had to summon this reactive foursome: Having recently reread my favorite book of Jane Eyre, I spotted yet another film adaptation in Costco last week.
One can never own too many adaptations of Jane Eyre so I bought it and was thoroughly enjoying it last night -- as I sipped my Chillax -- only to have the screen go blank, literally, right before the pivotal dramatic/romantic/climactic scene that every Jane Eyre devotee waits for, drooling in the dim light.
Not wanting to be a spoiler, I will not give it away but, no,
there is no sex in Jane Eyre. Sorry.
While there may, indeed, be a version called "Jane E. Does Dallas" or " Big Booty Sluts of the Gothic Literary Genre"" last night's version was clean as a whistle---just plot driven fun for nerds such as myself.
As the picture disappeared, enter shock rage, swearing, and, ultimately, despair. The Chillax did, however, soften the edges and keep my volume down a wee bit.
To make a long story less long, after the phone call, I could not recall the content of the blog I'd deleted to the point where it could have been rewritten.
I do know it contained the mention of some delicious crab cakes made by Seth's cousin brought back from his weekend away doing man stuff (hence the freedom to combine ice cream and alcohol as well as watch movies with girls names in the titles) but other than that, it's gone.
So is most of my mind.
A Chillax for breakfast, anyone?