I’ve let so much time go by that I’m not entirely sure where to pick up with you. What do you not already know, Sisterhood?
The last six weeks have been a blur. Not the life-in-hyperdrive kind of blur. More the too-much-water-in-the-watercolor-can’t-tell-what-the-picture-is-anymore kind.
I’ve been going through a lot of mindless . . . → Read More: Always Feels Like Yesterday
Week in The Other Valley vacationing.
The Week in The Other Valley recuperating.
Computer consultant consulting.
Computer replacement searching.
Computer replacement ordering.
Rental house refinished countertop projecting.
Rental house countertop project delaying.
Rental house other projecting.
More doctoring, negative flu testing, not-the-flu-but-flulike-symptoms suffering.
. . . → Read More: The Last Two Weeks –>Ing
It’s been twenty-three days, give or take, since I sat down to talk to you, to really talk to you. Not that I haven’t thought about you. I have. And I’ve filled the void, here and there, with fluffiness, lighterness. I just . . . I don’t know. What is there to say?
. . . → Read More: Probably I Should Warn You That This Is Pointless
Ten things I’m telling myself today:
(1) There is nothing I’d rather use this Monday for than year-end reports.
(2) I don’t look a day over 27. Ish.
(3) My favorite jeans easily make me appear 5 pounds lighter than I am.
(4) If I . . . → Read More: To Self, From Self (Edition 01.30.12)
(Please excuse–this is a test post re: auto-connect between WordPress and Facebook. It is blah and ugly and devoid of OtherSuchishness.)
That’s all I’ve got: oh, Google.
Today was a better day.
Like a way better day.
Like an exponentially way better day.
Thank you, today.
Faith is hope, tempered by reality, resting on trust, blanketed in peace.
~ . . . for I know the plans I have for you . . . ~
This isn’t a political website. My yard and the polling booth are the places for irritating/pleasing my friends and neighbors with which candidates I find less inferior (Candidate Friends: haha, kidding) than others, not this blog.
But, this day is such a beautiful shade of gray and rainy, the espresso in . . . → Read More: What I Meant About What He Said
The state of affairs: I am woefully behind. Or maybe more chronically than woefully. Or maybe just eh-well-whatevery behind.
The remedy: cliffnote us up to date. With a lot of colons. Because they’re like happy little polka dot disguises for my fragmented thoughts.
The Child: turns 3 in a few days, which cannot . . . → Read More: The Time I Forgot My Pants in a Public Restroom