Dear Mama,

I guess it's time to talk again. I'm remembering to take my antidepressant, for the most part, but I'm still down.
I feel so...
inadequate.

I know I shouldn't compare myself to others. But it such a hard habit to break. I mean, look at Jenny at work. She's sent in a whole sit-com script to that Bravo show! She's a prolific writer. Why can't I do that? Why are my stories locked in my head?

And last night, at the post dove hunt guy-fest, why wasn't I nervy enough to tell them they were being brainless, Bush-sheep? Why couldn't I march into the kitchen and tell them Bush is the WORST PRESIDENT EVER? Why couldn't I tell them, the world, the country, the environment is going to hell, while he paints pretty pictures. But I didn't. The Hubby asked me if I wanted to respond, but I said no. I didn't want to be made fun of. By a bunch of damn ostriches. What's wrong with me?! Why does it matter? I know I'm right. I just wish they would listen, but it's like I don't exist.

Oh, and Jimmy has his driver's liscence now. So, I see him leave for school, and that's it. I thought I was so cool. I thought I could handle the cutting of the cord. You know, I did my job, I raised a mature young man, time to let go. Yeah, it's bugging the living crap out of me. I'm not ready.

Oh, yeah, when I got home last night, around 9:45 like usual, Jimmy asked me what Senior stuff he should buy. I told him, besides the cap and gown, really all you need are announcements. He said he was thinking of getting one of the packages (like $170!!). I kind of swallowed and told him to get what he wants, and I'll help him pay for it.

You would be so proud of me, I have a reader. Well, have had. I think I lost him. Maybe it's because I don't really have anything to say. Or maybe I have things to say, but haven't found my voice yet.

More to say...

But I'll talk later.