I love that I dropped everything (seriously - I just fixed a bookshelf and was in a good organizational groove) to write.
I hate that I stopped my progress and ended up spending a half hour dealing with stupid computer crap. (A cheapie. It was a Groupon. I've probably come close to getting my money's worth out of it, but I'd like it to hang in there awhile longer, anyway.)
I get scared in those moments when I start to believe in "god" again.
I feel oddly correct in those shitty moments when I agree that "God is a mean-spirited, pugnacious bully bent on revenge against His children for failing to live up to his impossible standards” ( that was Walt Whitman, kids).
(Regarding that... I think if I seek "him," I will likely find something. Maybe even something good. I cannot imagine I'll find it in the Bible, though. I mean, really.)
(Lots of parentheses, as usual. Used to be semicolons. One of these ol' days, I need to dig into my use of parentheses. I think it's part of the "Squirrel!" thing.)
I hate the thought that a tree frog has stolen under my door and into my house.
It's kind of cool that there's a tree frog hanging out in my house. Nice to know that things can live here.
I love my son.
My son drives me batshit.
I really, really like U2. They're still on my concert list.
Part of me is embarrassed to like U2. I shouldn't be.
I like this new connection that's happening.
I can't help but think going forward could be the second-biggest mistake I've ever made (the biggest being the first time it happened).
Feet are both beautiful and disgusting.
Everything is.
I could go for a big plate of sliced tomatoes right now, slightly salty.
I'll settle for the last of the coffee.
I could go on and on about dicots and dichotomies, but I need to get back into that groove.
It's good to be back.
Green heart,
Amy
