The dishwasher is running, the clothes washer is going, C is watching a nature program, little C sounds like she's NOT sleeping, and I am in the middle of it all, attempting to write. I used to have to write everything out longhand on all these yellow legal pads I had floating around. I have got to get back to that. For some reason, on this novel, its always been a typed thing for me. I have not been able to write out a word. It hasn't clicked. Now with one computer right in the middle of the kitchen, it isn't exactly ideal.
I've been sleeping better. I've been dreaming. My dreams are often stressful, but in real life this is what I dream about. I dream that T gets a great job and that for our 15 yr. celebration of togetherhood (poetic license, I'll take it please) we go somewhere far away, an adventure, somewhere where I'm not constantly cold. I dream that I start playing the piano again, that I compose something that makes someone feel, that I will finish editing this novel, that I will buckle down and pray to organize my thoughts on healing and finish getting it down on paper. That's all.
These are the things that I don't have to dream about. The knowledge that what I'm doing is worthwhile. That the calling I am just ending was worth it because I was able to love someone who will probably play a significant role in my life coming up, that the interim calling I have until the calling I will have soon is ready, will be one that I will enjoy just as much. I get to see T every day. Yes, circumstances are stressful at times, but I get to be with him and it's been nice. Little C throws herself at me at least 97 times every day and declares I'm her best friend. C has taken some situations that were hard for him and turned them on their ear with his positive attitude. Dang, I am proud of that boy. And I picked little C up today and held her upside down by her feet. It didn't hurt me. Now that is a dream come true.
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