When I was seven, my family put on an Easter Egg hunt for all the kids on our street. Most of them were 10 and up. My sister and I didn't get baskets that year, because we were having the hunt instead.

I didn't find a single thing until our housemate showed me where he had hidden one hard boiled egg. I remember feeling miserable and watching all the other kids crowing about their loot. I spent most of the afternoon crying in my room. And my Easter consisted of a hard boiled egg, which I didn't even like back then.

I never ever EVER put on a neighborhood hunt for my kids because I'll be damned if one of my kids would ever feel the way I felt that day. 

We did baskets and inside the house egg hunts, just for our kids, and each kid got one room to search, so they would each get a fair share.

Marshmallow Peeps Are Proof That God Has Forsaken Us

I don't know about you, but when I look at a Marshmallow Peep I don’t see a treat; I see a chemical glow that has no business existing in nature. It’s a neon warning sign in the shape of a bird. Then comes that first bite - that weird, gritty mouthfeel where the sugar crystals scrape against your teeth like fine-grit sandpaper, followed immediately by the soul-crushing squish of a marshmallow that feels less like food and more like a damp, sugary tire.

Psych update and coping mechanisms

I have been unable to get one of my psych meds prescribed for some reason. my shrink can't do it and neither can my PCP. I'm pretty sure that it's a controlled substance.

Anyways, I have been very stable and doing well, so I think I'll stop trying to get the scrip written. If I start having symptoms, I'll take buspar for a few days until it mellows out. That's what I did this last time, and it worked well, although I was kind of a zombie while I was taking it every 6 hours. But it was only a few days, and then I felt even again and stopped the tranquilizer...