This entry is powered by Dove dark chocolate Easter eggs.

I did not go to the family Easter this year. I had decided ahead of time I wasn't going, because I'm in that side of my circular cycle of family relationships. The side that makes me feel mentally handicapped for voluntarily spending time with a stepfather who monstered sanity right out of me for eight years. And my aunt's husband who used the standard pedophile molester moves in my childhood. And the family who called me 'weird' all my life for wanting to make such a big deal about such things.

So, I was staying home and mourning my adult-level, moved-on-past-it-all, grown-up persona that has not yet arrived, 'lo these many decades.

Then, I ended up breaking up with a very nice guy on top of it all.

The first half of my Easter was great. My dog and I walked for more than an hour on a sunny and warm morning. We rambled; we roamed. We found a field and I laid down on my back under the sky and looked up, and read my current book, and Riley wandered in circles and found stuff to roll in. And even something to eat; I didn't look. Then we came home and I got into my giant feather chair and read, and snoozed, and sunshine was all over me in slats from the shutters.

Then the nice guy called and a lot of pain was felt and the breaking up was final and items were left on the stoop to be exchanged. It is my curse to care so deeply about people I do not want to be partnered with. I am a natural born therapist, I think. Or patient. Ha ha.

Here is a story for you, dear reader.

Once upon a stinky time, there lived a crust of bread. Under a sofa the crust had lived for many years, heroically escaping the fate of ants and vacuums and four-year-old fingers.

One day, the stink of the couch underneath was so strong, little Crusty decided he'd had enough.

"I've had enough," he said.

And someone heard him.

And this is what happens when you are dead tired and want to sleep but are high on Dove dark chocolate eggs and want to keep it fresh on the blogspot, man, but the truth is you are not fresh and have nothing to offer because your brain is dead and your eyes, oh how they sag.

Good night.