I couldn't have been more wrong.
Good ole' Murphy strikes again. Stupid Murph.
I am thankful for the moments of peace I have had, but I'd be lying if I said they weren't few and far between. Work has been nightmarish. The days have been unbearably hot. Emotions have been running high—so much going on with so many different people in my life. The country is being pulled in four different directions while the economy continues its downward slide.
But, us? We're good—things are smooth, as we approach one year of marriage. The world around us seems to be spinning out of control, but we are enjoying modest dinners, compelling films, day trips, guests in town, fair-weather sun tans.
Outside of our cocoon of happiness and simplicity, I often find myself treading water.
If you don't work full time (darn you) you just don't understand. You can't comprehend a summer in glimpses, tasting only droplets of the the heinously hot and the beautifully mild days—making your way to your car as the sun sets just breathing in the air, office meetings that drag on for hours without end in sight. Photos and posts of others playing, sweating, twisting and bending in the light and the humidity. It can make a sane person lose it. I have been practicing my breathing and keeping jealousy at bay, which hasn't been easy. It's been lots of prayer, breathing exercises, caffeine and pep talks help, but I still need more.
So, there's this:
Key West, Florida or Heaven on Earth?
And yes, in case you were wondering, I AM drooling right now. We will be here in four weeks. Four teeny tiny weeks that—Lord willing—will be quick and painless.
Come on, little weeks.
Come on, one-year anniversary.
Come on, no work in sight.
Come on, only bathing suits for days.
Come on, lasting sun tan.
Come on, late-night star gazing on the beach.
Come on, cocktails.
Come on, romance.
Come on, little bungalow.
Come on, cutie Goodwins.
Come on, diet out the window.
Let's wrap this silly summer up and put it all behind us. Shall we?