It's another tired day where I sit beneath grey clouds. The triple shot mocha that I sip on is making me sleepy rather then caffeinated. I'm sitting in the gallery, which has become my favorite place on earth, listening to public radio, and otherwise dreaming.
V. and I are now the proud tenants of a little house with a fenced in yard and nice neighbors. It still sits empty, and will until our house closes in October. Until then, the transition can be made slowly. I am relieved to know where we'll be living next. And maybe this sleepiness has a little to do with the sense of relaxation that washed over me as I walked out of the front door of our new home with a new key added to my key-ring.
Having an obsession with color, this morning, I found myself browsing through paint-chips at the local paint shop. I could sit here all week looking at these little squares of color. Really--I'm obsessed.
This morning I woke up crying from a dream I had about my old dog, Abe. I can't remember the dream. But I remember missing him, because I feel it now. Like I feel it everyday. The only thing our new place is missing, really, is him.
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