Okay. So. I was temporarily robbed of my happy. That is the bad news. The good news is it gave me a lot of time for self-pity, misery, gloom, melancholy and finally, introspection. Which is not always a good thing, sometimes it is a great thing. Problem is, there is a lot you must work through to come out the other end. But I did, and I am still standing.

About two weeks ago, I Googled: what do you do when you have more problems than solutions? Oh, Aunty Google had a lot to say. But not quite what I wanted to hear. Which brought me to the conclusion that it was a Karma moment. So, either those that brought me to that place can expect a visit from Karma at some point in the future – in which case I hope she brings the family along. Or this was Karma paying me a visit. It depends how one would look at it. However, just in case it was Karma paying me a visit, I reached the conclusion that with that out the way (her visit, that is) we can now all move on.

Voodoo is a religion practiced in parts of the Caribbean, mostly. I do not know much about this practice, but I have seen enough movies to know what a Voodoo Doll is. I have made quite a few imaginary Voodoo Dolls two weeks ago. In time to come I will let you know if it worked, or not. My luck, my Voodoo Dolls all melted in this nasty fire that has been burning around us this past week. I sent a photo to my sons, saying: Look how the Hemel and Aarde Valley (that translates into Heaven and Earth Valley) is burning. My son’s response? You mean Hell and Earth Valley! You will not find flames that big in heaven, he said. (Note to self: School fees well spent.)

So, what to do when you identify as a Hippopotamus, wallowing in a pool of misery? Well, at first you make all those around you miserable before you eat your way through a tub of biscuits or drown your sorrows in a bottle of something. Or you hand it all to the universe and wait for the tide to turn, which is what I did. Fortunately, I have a new favourite singer to help me through my moments. His name is Max McNown, and he is super cute. Now, liking Max does feel a bit like cradle snatching. He is a 22-year-old singer-songwriter, and his music is described as the kind of songs that perfectly soundtrack our most intimate moments of heartache and loss…..sniff! Every time he thumps his chest as he belts out: “I’m a little bit hurt, but a lot more free”, I would stick another imaginary needle into my imaginary doll made of straw, or human hair, or whatever these dolls are made off. Maybe corn ears. I have no idea. Thanks, Max. With that out the way, I hope to explore some of your other music.

But, as I said, I did come through standing. And it has strengthened my resolve. It has also reminded me that not everybody deserves rent free space in your head. Not everybody is worth getting up from your chair for. Not everybody is worth my peace of mind. It has reminded me of boundaries. It reminded me of accountability. It has taught me lessons. I am a little bit hurt, but a lot more free. It has reminded me that a lot of what we give airtime to, is white noise and not worthy of your time and treasure.

So, here I am: I am back. I look forward to keeping the dream alive. I look forward to discovering new adventures. I look forward to sharing with you. Because I know you missed me.

Now, I know you are dying to get to YouTube. Type in Max McNown – you know you want to!