As you would expect, I have a lot of thoughts brewing. I did not sleep well last night. My sister and boyfriend joke that when I go to sleep, I look like I am dead, meaning that I do not move, snore, or anything that most people do in their sleep. (Although I do have frequent pee breaks. What can I say? I have the bladder the size of a pea.) They recently confided that when I was recovering from surgeries this past year, they both would get extremely close to my face just to verify that I was, in fact, alive. According to Mr. Spots, I have been tossing and turning lately. Anxiety? Or is it just the new Stephen King book interrupting my usually peaceful dreams?
I am not ready to blog about my anxiety tonight. Instead, on this cold Tuesday night in Southwest Virginia, I am going to go curl up to my guy. In my other blog, I once said, that like Elizabeth Gilbert, "I deserve something beautiful."
I believe, with my whole heart, that I have found it.
