Sometimes when I am deciding what to write on the blog, I make a list, which I think is what our 3rd grade teachers taught us to do. Brainstorming.
My list usually consists of five terrible ideas and one sort-of-terrible-but-maybe-workable idea. Sometimes it is just six terrible ideas.
Anyway. I can't completely flesh out any of my topics this time, and since I've hit a snag, I'll just set up camp right here.
These are the topics I have written for today:
- I love my family. My family loves God. So, I'll keep working on it.
- I keep falling down/up stairs, but almost never in front of anyone, so I'll just consider it GOOD luck? Or something.
- Winter this year hasn't felt as dreadful as years past. And by "less dreadful" I mean, "not as much like the living hell that it usually is, but more of a rudely-leaning purgatory."
- I really, really love my job, even if I am by FAR the dumbest one there...and have the worst eating habits.
- Being married feels normal. Being single feels normal. When do things feel strange? Children?
- I know a lot of people who are so ready to vocalize their feelings about their spouses to others. They say lovely and tender things, and I find no offense in that practice. The more I live with Sloan, however, and the more we end up working together to live our lives, the more I want to privately feel my feelings. It's a tendency I had never felt before; to be alone when I consider the love I have for another person. I feel like I collect my feelings like scrap metal. I pick them out one piece at a time, and store them (in me somewhere....I guess). And introspection is turning out to be an ideal place for me to melt and twist and clip my love into something sleek, refined (and hopefully sturdy) for only Sloan to see.
Does this even make sense? What does it mean, do you suppose?