Yeah, that'd be me. Heh. But it is pay week; taking pleasure in small miracles. There was a wonderful thunderstorm here this weekend. Poor Bella came and laid in bed with me, the entire thing shook as if we were in some cheap motel feeding the bed quarters one after another. Bless her tiny Yorkie heart, thunderstorms are just not her thing. Okay, so he still hasn't written and by-Golly I'm still breathing. Another small miracle. In light of this, I have thrown myself into my job; low and below lots of stuff I have been putting off is getting done. Amazing what a "broken-heart/hurt ego" is capable of. My gigantuous stack of C-R-A-P is now just a small pile. Listening to Marky-Mark good vibrations (one of my feel good songs, and how in the heck can you be sad when you think of his abs - oh my). Yes, this day is slowly getting better by the minute. Time will heal most wounds. And the wounds it doesn't heal, get easier to handle. I like to call it "the other side." A mountain in the distance seems so incrediably far away and tall, almost impossible to conquer. And when we do reach it; we sweat, we cry, might have to crawl along the way and yes sometimes stop and rest, slide backwards a bit only to have to regain the same ground. But one day - one wonderful day - we will be on the other side, a few bruises and some scars. But we make it to the other side - a better person for having done so.
Tootles and have a beautiful, crazy Monday!
Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.”
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