Life hasn’t always been kind to me. But whatever it hands me, I create a plan and a backup plan in my head. They are not always the best ideas but I can function if I have these thoughts floating around in my head. I can take whatever is handed me, if I know what it is. Its the limbo I can’t take. The not knowing what the hell is going on, being unable to create some elaborate fantasy in my head (i.e., plan) to combat the worry. I can’t stand this slow torture of not having a firm hold on my life. Basic things like where am I going to live, where are my children going to lie there pretty little heads down at night, do I pack my stuff and move next month or do I hang in here as long as I can, in limbo land. I fricken hate limbo land. It destroys my mind and will. It zaps me like no other horrible thing that has happened in my life. Ladybug has two massive strokes at birth: I instantly have a plan, contact doctors, social workers, take care of NannyGoat. Macdougal develops a killer flesh eating bacteria and tries to die? I instantly have a plan. But this limbo shit? Its a piece of crap. A large steaming piece of crap, that I can smell but can’t see. If I could see it….I would have a plan about how to clean the shit up.

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