"The best way out is always through."
|Photo found here.|
I am in bed. I'm tired. I've been really tired for the last six weeks. Sleep, clearly, is needed, but I also feel extra obligated to my body, now that I'm slinging it across the pavement three times a week.
I should be asleep, but I'm not there yet. My mind seems to just be getting going. All kinds of thoughts. You know.
My life is good. It's hard sometimes, but for the most part, it's pretty darn good and I don't have much to complain about. I have a good job. I have friends, even if I often feel alone. I have a mother who loves me. A lot. I have a car that's as cute as can be. It turned one year old at the beginning of this month, which of course means that by the end of the month I have to renew my registration. Ugh. But, I'm traveling to Italy in less than two months. Mmm, gelato.
I ate Cafe Rio tonight. Super huge portions. But I didn't stuff myself and I successfully talked myself into throwing away what was left over. It wasn't really worth keeping. Tasty, it was, though. And my fingers smell like lime. I like that.
I've been thinking lately that I'd really like an adventure. I'd like to live overseas again. I think I'd just really like my own place to decorate. A space that really feels like mine. Someday.
Today, there was a bombing and shooting of some 80 summer camp attendees in Norway. Who does that? I haven't even been able to bring myself to read much about it. I don't know. I guess I'm feeling a little emotional and it might put me over the edge. You know, I go off to a wedding reception in my slinky LBD with red heels (hot red heels, I might add) while people in Norway are mourning the deaths of many of their friends and family. I'm sitting here contemplating my run tomorrow morning and how hard it's going to be, when there are people who are lying in the hospital. I pretty much start crying when I even THINK about one of my family members dying. Too painful to contemplate for very long, even for a morbid person like I am.
I don't know. Life is hard. It's full of pain. But I guess it's through the pain and the hard things in life that we come to know ourselves and God. I feel compassion for the peaceful Norwegian people. Somehow, I wish I could just go there and hold their hands. Hug them and hold them while they cry. Be the person who can think straight for them, while their minds are in shock. Someday, I'll rescue the world.
Instead, I'm lying in my bed... blogging. Preparing to drift off into a dreamy sleep. And when I wake, I'll roll out of bed, pull on my wonderful new sports bra (I got it in black) and go off for W3D1. Life goes on, I guess. But I can say my prayers. And I am. Someone's missing their mom tonight. But they'll see her again. Someday.
The wedding reception tonight was for two friends from Salt Lake Choral Artists. They're in their mid-30s and really great people. They give me hope that maybe, by my mid-30s (almost there) there will be someone out there for me too. She looked beautiful in her dress and they just seem really comfortable in their skin. That's nice. Someday.
Last Sunday, I walked into sacrament meeting (at my family ward) and sat down two rows behind my friend Melissa and her family. She was holding new baby Brynn, who was sleeping, so I said, "Anytime you need someone to hold her, let me know." She immediately handed her over and that sweet little baby slept in my arms for the next hour. I want babies. Someday.
That's why I'm going to the mid-singles ward (yes, still doing both, sort of). You know... to find someone to have babies with. :) Oh gosh, did I really say that? I did. And I guess it's true. And to branch out and make new friends. One can never have too many friends and everyone else needs one, so why not be the one to be one. Did that make sense? I think I'm ready for bed.
Glad it's Friday. Really glad. My fingers still smell like lime. Mmm. Goodnight.