Laughing at the Moon

I think too much. It’s my fatal flaw. That also means I talk too much and write too much. I ramble endlessly and drive everyone I know to share my insanity (both the diagnosed and the un-diagnosed) by over-analyzing absolutely everything.

I love too much. My family includes me, Hubby, Little Man, Big Girl (formerly known as Baby Girl), and Psycho Cat.  There are others who live in my house and in my heart who are also family — either through blood or by choice.

I do too much. I spend my days caring for the people I love, fighting with myself, and trying to come to terms with who I really am. In the spare moments between those tasks, I ignore housework and write poetry and fiction.