Apparently wasps and bees get drunk. I recently tried helping two bees, at least I think they were two different bees as these were two different walks but how would I know? Both had been on their backs, their little legs and wings were frantically working to turn them right side up but they just couldn't do it. Once turned over, the first once I happened upon walked with no problem so I moved on. On my next walk, after being helped to his feet, the second one I found wobbled about for a few seconds and landed on his back once again. I gave up on him. He needed to sober up.
I've tried being a friend to human alcoholics, too. I didn't grow up with alcoholism in my family but apparently other forms of abuse create the same results. I like to think I've grown, learned, and broken the pattern that held me captive. I haven't lost empathy or sympathy. What I've lost is the need to become embroiled.
Off to the beach for some water therapy and then I have my massage with Eric later this afternoon. Not everything in my life is perfect, but it is pretty damn good.
One more thing. I like to think that being cynical and realistic is not the same as being pessimistic. Just something that has been on my mind. I'm also out of bread.
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