“An element of abstention, of restraint, must enter into all finer joys.” ~Vida D. Scudder
Welcome to my humble abode. Actually, my living room.
Won’t you please pull up a chair or a couch…or some random stools or perhaps a set of drawers and a random box o’ crap.
A morning of babysitting would normally leave me stressed and using the phrase “dumb bitch” repeatedly also a good story or two. But alas the only story of the weekend was an incident in which I got purple paint on my REM Vote For Change t-shirt that “normally washes out of the kid’s clothes”. Well I’m sure the kids don’t have a once in a lifetime REM t-shirt. Anyway, I returned home to the above. Whereas normally, I’d drop my cumbersome bags on the ground and stare wide eyed in horror and then probably convulsed and finally a catatonic state, because HOLY HELL, I cannot live in such a disaster. (Yes, yes I can actually, my bedroom looks like
And that’s how it went and how it’s been going: A calming effect of sorts in which I can do things without threats to throw myself off of a balcony. Without arrant proclamations or tears; just a ‘Hmmm’.
Of course very little cannot be solved with glorious and beautiful people to make me Watermelon Gin and Tonics and feed my every whim and belly with smoked salmon, pasta salad, and then margaritas. Note to self: When you start falling asleep over your Amstel, it is time to stop drinking. I can this for sure; I surely am not what I used to be. Seven hours of drinking now actually causes extreme exhaustion as opposed to late night trips to Fuddruckers.
Special thanks to some very special people who know that handing me a bottle of red, will make me the happiest girl alive.