Detox Cry for Help

*OFFICIAL TMI WARNING…..
Between the holiday brunch and the massive shrimp dinner at the holiday dinner buffet……my body took an over abundant hit of food. While turning into a social butterfly, I also turned into a foodie. The holidays will do that to you. Food and wine simply appear and you do not have to make much of an effort. It simply appears in front of you and ends up in your hands. As I awoke the next morning, I was placed in the impossible position of being bloated and hungry at the same time. It is something that I would not wish on an enemy.
My body was filled to capacity, and nothing was moving much to my dismay. Something drastic had to be done. I found my senna in the cabinet and quickly boiled some tea. It is funny how we often have the answer to our problems within reach but have yet to put two and two together. At the stroke of midnight, the toilet became my friend. For approximately thirty minutes, the toilet captured the waste as my eyes drenched my face with tears. It is not uncommon to cry while on the toilet; however, it is becoming more and more frequent for me. This particular episode was such a release for me. Everything was going inside of my body but nothing was coming out. It was awful. Bilious even presented itself but it was no match for the peppermint oil that I quickly consumed. Three o’ clock found me back on the toilet which then contributed to my insomnia. Needless to say, a proper detox is in order and will be started shortly.

Crystal in Chaos

My house turned into a construction site over night. Things are out of place as the workers revamp my bathroom and tend to the water damage in the spare room. Such situations make my tummy flip. Between the insurance and the inflating budget, my home is in a flipped state. The chaos has disturbed my sleep and made me rather irritable. I do not like going home to my now non sanctuary and finding the men still there making a complete mess. Yes, I know I hired them. Yes, I know that I will love it once it is complete. However, the interim is killing me. Dust and machines are everywhere.
The workers have finally learned how to flush but still do not know how to put down the seat. Imagine that I have explained to the female contractor that finding foreign urine in my toilet with the seat up is against my religion. I finally posted a sign that reads: Thank You for putting down the seat. Its not that I want to come off as a rather unfriendly lady, but at what point does being a complete wild creature not disturb a civilized being?
There has been no meditation. There are no gatherings at my home. My harp is living in my kitchen for its own protection which does not encourage any cooking whatsoever. While the ghost that haunted the master bath has probably been scared away, others spirits and creepy crawlies have made themselves known. With wide holes open to the world, underground things that never see the light of day come out to have coffee with me.
I thought it best to make my way to my mother’s home for the evening so that the whole scene would not upset me once again. When I go home, my sanctuary helps me to relax and recharge. My friend keeps telling me that once everything is done, perhaps I can entertain company in the bathroom; a lover of sorts. Perhaps patience is a virtue that should be acquired for this situation. Friday night will find me at the movies. Saturday will find me at the spa. Sunday will find me in the recording studio. Come hell or high water…and just to be clear, I am the hell and the high water- SCANDAL