Secondly, I am grateful for the kindness of others, and grateful that just because I don't have a house of my own doesn't mean I am living on the streets of this likable city.
I think I almost had an anxiety attack yesterday morning. Heart racing. Tears coming. Overwhelmed and worried and the feeling like the concrete I was standing on was spinning very, um, circularly. What a nice word. Circularly.
What is the lesson to be learned? I haven't a clue. But I love being in challenging situations, and getting through them, and realizing my limits were even further out than I had thought. I am also realizing the necessary parts of life, through this houseless journey I am on. I was thankful for the spring-like weather on Christmas that set the stage for a really timely run. I know I should always have my baking ingredients handy, and not in a box in storage with games and books and summer clothes. The feel of something warm in my hand, whether it be coffee or tea or orange rinds steeping in water brings the comfort needed after a near panic attack. And I am thankful that Aimi met Isaiah, and that he wanted her to meet his family, which meant she would leave her house for the six days surrounding the birth of baby Jesus, which meant I would have a pretend cozy little house all to myself.
And lastly, not thirdly or fourthly, as those were sandwiched somewhere in the above paragraph: Conventional. Following accepted customs and proprieties. Conforming with accepted standards. Ordinary. Commonplace. Does anyone really like the way that sounds? I do not seek to be unconventional. I don't have it on a list of things to do. As I don't really make lists of things to do. But the thought of being conventional makes me sad, and disappointed, and less hopeful in general.
It's a really spectacular day.
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