Sunday, October 24, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
It makes sense that every day would start this way.
The clarity and peace brought to anxiety.
The wind is blowing a calm breeze through the cracked door.
George is chewing a filthy toy, while I drink pumpkin-vanilla coffee.
The soft buzz of football is in the other room.
I'm wrapped in a warm, cozy sweater.
Everything is still, and perfect.