Friday morning on the way to work I thought to myself, my stomach hurts. Your stomach, I said to myself severely, always hurts. I have these conversations with myself every time I’m in the car but always on the way to and from work. My car is basically my therapist. Yes, I said, my stomach always hurts but today, it hurts more than usual. Maybe, I hazarded, this is because yesterday you woke up at 6 and then you took your brother to the urologist and then you went out for coffee and then you worked for 9 hours and for dinner you had, first, in the car, a tiny can of tuna salad and four Ritz clone crackers. Then you had a large gin and pink stuff (thanks, tiki bar!) Then you came home and ate a piece of toast with peanut butter and five tiny antique vegan egg rolls from the depths of the freezer. Hmm, I said to myself, you may be on to something.

I laughed at myself for a long time that morning. I do find myself hilarious. It is a good thing to laugh at yourself, particularly when you are prone to overly dramatic statements like, I would rather die than go on like this. At that point you can say politely, isn’t death a tad extreme for, like, dropping an egg or having to wash the dishes?

There’s a lot going on right now and I’m feeling overwhelmed and ineffective. This is not unusual; it is, in fact, the way things are. It is possible that I need a more proactive therapist than a 2016 Acura. I also do need to learn how to manage my unruly digestive system better. My current plan is to only eat small amounts here and there. This is a good plan – it’s one of the things they tell you to do if you, like me, have GERD and a medium sized hiatal hernia and acid reflux. So far I have not been stellar at managing it. They tell you to do a lot of things and I have succeeded in doing one of them: I don’t drink white wine anymore. Turns out it is more acidic than red! I prefer red so that’s all right, although I suspect that this switch is, perhaps, not wildly effective in tummy management. It doesn’t really matter, because I have long been diagnosed as fat, and I can’t seem to do anything about that. I mean, every other year I starve myself for six months and lose 30 pounds. Then for the next eighteen months I eat everything in sight and gain 40 pounds. As a long term strategy this, I believe the technical term is, sucks. Also it’s insane and I do recognize that. But my therapist says it’s ok.

On to the photos of the week! Here is my crazy rose again on Sunday, May 10. On Monday, May 11 I met a friend for a glass of wine at Peter Pan; it was lovely to sit outside and drink wine like someone from a vastly more civilized nation. On Tuesday, May 12, I could not face making dinner so we went out to Fort George, which was also very nice and civilized. Wednesday, May 13, Harvey and I walked on the sawmill trail and discovered that these yellow flag iris were in bloom. They are invasive and evil so it’s okay to pick them although, damn, they resist being plucked with a mighty strength. They also grow in the mud, so this bouquet is evidence of extreme valor. If you see them, go ahead and take them. The wildflower that it’s ok to pick! Thursday, May 14 is the day from the first paragraph and this is from having post urologist coffee. On Friday, May 15 we went to the historical section of Fort Stevens, where this osprey, who has appeared in this blog before, has a nest on top of a column. Every time you walk by she gets upset and flies around screaming. This is unfortunately about as effective in deterring predators as drinking only red wine is in deterring acid reflux, because it means her nest is undefended – she seems to be a single mom – and there are a lot of eagles and ravens about. But I get it. Flying around screaming can be very soothing. Then on Saturday I took Four to a birthday party in Hammond and this wet and watercolory photo through the windshield was taken when I left. I like it.

May next week be, if not better, perhaps a bit calmer for us all.