On Location

My neighbor's internet connection has been denying me all week. So I am writing to you on location, from the fabulous Ms. K's fondue party. How urban and trendy and retro is that?

New analogy for work: think surfing. Waves are coming, and as they approach - I'm duck-butting my way under them. Then they go roaring and crashing over my head, and I come up into calm water again. I get to look back, and say, "Wow. That one looked pretty rough," and smile placidly as I continue floating. I've decided I pick my waves.

2 weeks ago today (stupid girl brain, holding onto pointless little dates and "anniversaries"), my poor little heart was getting all crunched up like one of those foam stress ball toys. It's starting to reshape itself. Got a little nicked, though. Such is life.