Feeling good, wonderful even, and then my neck starts hurting and the back soon follows, and then I realize my period’s begun and this might explain why I’ve felt so weepy and irritable all afternoon. And J.S. is coming over, and I worry I’ll ruin everything, saying or doing something stupid or just madly professing my love for him too soon or something equally scare-inducing, and by the time he leaves I haven’t done anything except continue on the course we’re going — which is good! all good! nothing bad there! (and only a very tiny mini-profession of love) — but I spend the next hour worrying he won’t ever call me again and I’ve destroyed any chance I’ve ever had of a functioning relationship and when I wake up in the morning there’s going to be an email or a text message or voicemail saying it’s over, and all because I mentioned the L-word (love, silly, not lesbian) in passing (well more in a “I think this is what it feels like to be falling in love” sense). But then? Then I realize that this is fear and anxiety and a reluctance to fully accept the future as an unknown talking to me, trying to drive me back into Dysfunctional Relationship Land, and it is most definitely time to go to bed before the men in the little white coats are called. But first? First I’m going to have a huge piece of chocolate cake. Namaste.