(smiles and waves emphatically)
Hello, Dear Reader. It’s nice to see you again.
I like to envision you reading this, in some parallel yet delightfully different state of being.
Perhaps you’re on lunch, with your tuna sandwich and iced tea before you. Or maybe you’re in The Waiting Room, and the thought of flipping through the tired magazine offerings has brought you here instead.
Regardless, here we are. You and I.
. . .
It’s Monday, my favorite day of the week.
It’s fresh, it’s crisp. It makes me want to open a brand new notebook and write down the many thoughts inside my head.
Because I am different today, and so are you.
There is only this moment. This delicate whisper of existence will soon expire to the graveyard of memory.
So here I am!
It’s the perfect time to say hello. It’s the perfect time to let it out.
(Join me if you wish.)
. . .
- Game. of. Thrones. I just. . . can’t. I can’t even articulate how much I love this show. I know it’s all anyone talks about, but it’s a work of art. It has proven to me, once again, that the power of fiction is everlasting. Do whatever you need to watch it, from the beginning, without researching fan theories or spoilers. Let it speak.
- I’m My Own BFF. Okay, so that’s not really true. The Sweet Husband is my best friend. I also have a small cluster of women who are fucking awesome and who I wish lived closer so we could talk and drink and “discuss all the vast intricacies of life.” (That’s a Paul McCartney lyric, by the way.) Anyway, what I’m getting at is that I’m trying to cut myself a break. I’ve read that you’re supposed to treat yourself as you would a friend. Show support. Forgive. Be understanding that Shit Happens. So why do I think I’m somehow not qualified for these affections? I power through a migraine because taking two Tylenol and lying down shows weakness. This is ludicrous thinking. Take a break, Snap. Treat your body and mind with the respect it deserves.
- Simple Pleasures. They are everywhere, love. We merely have to take time to see them: Morning sun; floral sheets; funky coffee mugs; listening to an album in its entirety; seasonal foods; handwritten letters; deciding which earrings to wear; bar soap; seeing new sprouts in the garden; Henry and Raj sharing a snack; happy hour; inscriptions found in old books; holding hands; family recipes; a haircut; knick-knacks; a favorite pen. We all have to go through this life, and I aim to do so while having fun. So damn it, I’m going to spend the money, eat the artisanal food, and pick the cute one. Because really. . . why would you not pick the cute one?
So if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to move along. The day is waning fast, and there’s a lot to do.
But I’ll wait until this song is over first.
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