Sometimes there is no right thing to do.  You muddle along, follow your intuition, and hope for the best.

Stormy is asleep next to me, breathing in and out rapidly.  We are in a new home, he isn’t calm.

I dreamt about my teeth last night.  That’s never a good sign.  I could put my finger in between my bottom teeth.  They were falling out.

Today I was told that I need to stand up for myself.  Then I was told that I need to do what is right for me.  And what is right for me, right now, is to not ruffle any feathers and take the kick in the mouth.

I asked Rob if we could move back to England.  He laughed.  I was serious, if only for a moment.

I painted my nails red and turned the music up louder.  Celebrated all the fathers and went to bed at 8:30 p.m.

On the horizon, things are taking form.

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