I cannot handle too many stimuli causing my brain to think. Even if it is something as “simple” as music playing in the background as I am trying to accomplish something semi-important. 
Complete silence is not needed, but a tad bit quieter. I feel awful for asking for this, because I am met with “C’mon, baby. It’s my weekend…”    I understand that this is “HIS” house…but, I live here, too.

I am trying to figure out my finances so I can purchase him a birthday gift that he wants, as opposed to the birthday gift that he is not aware of existing. And it’s either Led Zeppelin or Widespread Panic more often than not.  



I am so grateful. I’m grateful to be alive after looking death straight in its ugly eye; I’m thankful to be loved by a man who sees me not as “brain damaged;” but the same girl he once crushed on in high school. I am forever indebted to my mother for her unwavering love that she has always showed me (even if we have had one MAJOR disagreement…the results are because of the damage I have sustained to my brain, BUT…anyway). I am appreciative of the PURE love I feel for my puppies, and the way I can sense that they feel the same (if not more).

via Brandy Hunter.