Wednesday, January 30, 2013

4 years, 100 posts.

It's nearing 10 pm, but I have tomorrow off. I am so happy about this I could cry. Today was rough. I run out of sympathy very quickly for other people. Excuses get old, and my heart gets weary. Perhaps like when your child lies to you, or makes a bad choice. I have twelve children... and we live in a shoe store.

I came home from work early today and finished Till We Have Faces for the second time. What a great book. Man, I love it. What was even more fun was that it's been so long since I read it that I couldn't remember how it ended.

I taught a yoga class, and stuck around to take a class after mine. I stayed and closed up shop with my teacher, then went to Lauren's for an article she told me about and I wanted to read it. All the while my phone was in my car, and my husband out looking for me. Those scenarios always end in relief and happiness masked by anger. "Glad you're alive, sorry you're so self-absorbed that you didn't think to mention to me you would be 45 minutes late. PS, don't sit by me on the couch. I love you so much. I hate you." Those might have been the thoughts going through his head.

It's so cold and windy out that it feels evil. Goodnight, friends.


  1. I hear you. sometimes when I'm at the pregnancy center, I will come away from a conversation with a client and say, "if one more girl tells me [blah, blah, blah] I'm going to have a nervous breakdown." Isn't that just bubbling over with the compassion of Jesus?! I am quick to run out of sympathy so many days.

  2. I'm too nervous to attend your yoga class. Maybe you can talk me into it, but I'm pretty sure my legs will start burning, I won't be able to hold the position, and then I'll humiliate my family and myself. But I would be proud to sit in the back and watch you teach.