Never Lost

Merrhh. If that's what crankiness sounds like.

The pile of laundry on my bed is taller than I am wide. Or deep? Whatever my horizontal dimension. Don't worry. It's clean. It's like napping in a valley. Napping Valley! hahahahahah

sorry.

I love my ampersand! It's been long enough that I can look at it without reflecting on the decision itself. I see it now and think, "did I come with this?! who put it there! it's awesome!" Silly goose. You did. Cause you're cool.

The sunlight filters through dancing leaves and static blinds while I filter through thoughts that pass like highway exits. Attempts to repossess them float away in futility comparable to that of a wintertime firefly hunt.

My rising gas budget is a donation to the therapy that is driving curvy roads, windows down, Dylan Waters Morrison Townsend Mitchell Garfunkel wailing along with me. I do most of the wailing. Well, and Dylan. What a guy.

Spirits are high, I think. The family tackles trials together and only ever loves and enjoys each other more as a result. The job, no matter its sometimes (uh, often) overwhelming triviality, means what it means to me and gives me the opportunity to glorify God through maintained patience and humility and grace concerning colleagues and customers alike. I've settled into a general sense of belonging, but the recognition of such hasn't filled a desperate void. It's improved upon a standard. I'm never lost. I belong where I'm happy, where I'm loved, where I love. The rest is all gravy and buttercream icing. As separate condiments. Don't be gross.

I would like to conclude with the sound of a small smile. I typed all the crankiness right outta me.

Enjoy your evening. Encourage someone. Embrace silence.

xoxo,

Gossip Girl