A nightly mix of insomnia and the kind of dreams you read about. Not here. Not now. Surely, there are other things I can do at 3:30 am besides watch Witness for the Prosecution again. Eh, ducky?
I held two babies today. A little wrinkly girl, born yesterday. She snuggled into my deltoid. Then an 11-week old boy went right for it too. The delta of my deltoid.
About a year ago, Beaulah asked me to write about the last time I cried. I couldn�t remember any. Well, I�ve been tearing up here and there. I�ve had to excuse myself from a meeting or two and rush a little dramatically down the hall. I did have the yoga class cry a couple weeks ago. During shivasana, that deep relaxation time, wah! No, I just lay there quietly, tears streaming down.
Why the sad pan? A couple little/big things fluttering around in there and occasionally banging up against the wall.
Nothing is ever as bad as the old storm of �95. Remember that, kids? It�s been 10 years, no commemoratives will be sold.
