Handed Lemons? Fill Your Squirt Guns with Lemon Juice.

I tried to title this post "Take Lemons. Make Lemonade." But my stomach isn't strong enough for that Pollyanna today - right now, if I throw up, it ain't just going to be in my mouth, eh?

Even so, I can look at getting hit with relapsing enteritis on New Year's Day as a bad omen or I can look at it as nature offering to purge me of all the bad shit* I've carried with me. So I choose to go lighter into this new year** and let go my angst, my self-loathing, the well-husbanded bitterness for long-remembered slights. And if what replaces these is an airy disinclination to give a fuck, so be it. I resolve to give up my fear of falling. There's no need to pin myself to the ground.

Gravity will always be there.

*Not a metaphor
**Also not a metaphor - stomach flu is the ultimate weight loss plan