Marry A Sheep Or Pig

Sunday afternoon.


Perched in the window-seat, reading notes and other jottings from the little green sketchbook I carry in my purse...


april 13, 2012


mind like mewling kittens in a small cardboard box. 


this can't be good.


I begin my drive to morning yoga:


good morning God 
Higher Power  
Ethel?
Anybody?


It's me, Betsy.


Thanks for waking me with a sense of humor, me stretched across our bed horizontally, feet pressed into Michael's back - 


I don't think you're trying to snuggle, he said.


and I start with my verbal gratitude list 


thank you for my family
health
this car to take me to work


which lasts three seconds before mewling mind wanders to Marni, who covers the desk @ yoga saying, "Did you gain weight?"


Deer in the headlights, it was barely 7am, followed by, "It looks like you had a good winter, you look good" which made me want to check my cheeks for extra acorns. The last time she'd seen me was October when, as my mother would've said, I was painfully thin. I sputtered have a good day, bitch? and hurried to the yoga studio vowing to give up my daily handful of almonds and walnuts. 


can you stuff your cheeks with ice cream?


And this useful advice from an un-dated page:


rabbit, luckiest of signs
talented and affectionate, 
yet shy
you seek peace
marry a sheep or pig - not a rooster

xo b