I’m grateful that the sun has made an appearance on this Monday morning. A day that progresses without the sun is tough on me; the equivalent of my discombobulated self that foggily makes it through the spring and fall changing of the clocks.
This morning my brain is spent, heart heavy, and now my head hurts. I didn’t expect to feel so blah after writing about Marquette yesterday. To throw salt on the wound this morning I smashed my head when I reached to pick up dirty laundry in Bridget’s bedroom. I didn’t see the closet drawer before I smashed my forehead into it. And no, I’m not hungover from any Super Bowl festivities. I just have a knack for smashing my head at inopportune times.
I’m feeling anxious and accomplished about my progress writing every day for 90 consecutive days. I’m more than halfway through my commitment. This mixed bag of emotions has me back to a betwixt and between morning, so taking a queue from Comfort Prayers this morning, I’m going to share the angels who graced my WordPress Reader this morning.
THE ANGEL APPEARS
Sometimes the angel appears in the form of a friend
who says exactly the words we need to hear that day.
Or you will unwillingly act as an angel to someone
else, tossing off a message so casually that, though it
saves another person’s life, you hardly remember the
moment at all.
I have been listening to Steffany all morning. Thanks for the suggestion: A Fractured Faith | Monday Morning Uplift
Twisted and dark humor suits me fine any day. This morning I loved this story from Little Fears | Lucky Penny. Mostly because I love when luck trumps evil!
Last, this is the best blog post that I read this month, in part because it’s so true, and also because I can’t wait to read about how her description is received. Thanks to Lucille’s Lively Letters | Enough with stupid profiles – or not? I’ll try my hand at a new online dating profile:
Malleable woman ready to serve you. Passport is valid and ready to follow you to all corners of the Earth. Let me be your slave. I want nothing more than to be your lost puppy and clean your cigar filled ashtrays, keep your rock glass filled with bourbon, be your arm candy at all your favorite sporting events and cause-related fundraisers. I’ll pretend to love the Cubs or Sox, or both. I’ll study the Hawks roster and host your fantasy football league draft with bells on. I’ll keep your Lipitor stocked, and the fridge, too. I’ll pick up your dry cleaning and iron your shirts in a pinch. And I’ll also look good in heels, keep my body in shape to your liking and approval, be independent (but not really), be charming (only for you babe, not other men), be smart (but not smarter than you), be witty (but not wittier than you), have my own friends (who I only get to see with your permission), and talk dirty when you want, and do whatever else you want me to do. Message me:)
Oh my, God. Thanks to Lucille for enlightening me. I think I would kill myself if that was my life or profile. Thank God for Monday morning angels. My heart is already lighter.