It turns out that peanut butter and bacon are two great tastes that do not taste great together. I used reduced fat Jiff and turkey bacon--maybe it would have worked better with the real thing. To get over the dissapointment, I made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies and they were much tastier.
It's snowing and I'm working from home, which means I'm camped out on the couch snarfing Froot Loops with my computer in my lap, pretending that my car does not have to be dug out or moved. Denial is a lovely place to be. I might need to spend more time there. This weekend I realized how much other people's lives affect me. How much is too much? My default setting is to try and help fix problems, but I can't fix other people's problems and usually people don't want their problems fixed for them. Then comes empathy, but empathy feels empty when you're grasping at straws, wanting to help but knowing there isn't anything to do except listen and love. Going through shit is hard, but in some ways I think it's harder watching a friend suffer, knowing her pain will end but also knowing she has to find the way out on her own.
People fade in and out, and it's exhausting trying to figure out when they're present and when they've checked out for the next hour, the next month, the next year. No one is a mind reader. Or a fortune teller. You can say things are fine until you're blue in the face, but there's no hiding it when you go away inside and all that's left is a blank face staring at the TV. Maybe it's not neediness, just confusion over the fact that what used to be offered freely is now withdrawn and unavailable.