I'm sitting in bed listening to Ingrid Michaelson, which if you know of her, you know it's a huge mistake. If you don't know her, think of John Cusack's quote in High Fidelity...
"Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
Anyway, what's rambling around in my head besides thoughts like, "Yesterday, my dog was sitting with me on the couch. Or today, my dog died in the south end of my dining room on the floor. I watched as his head dropped and his breathing stopped. I pushed my face into his little crimped ears and took one last whiff of that Riley puppy smell."
Are things like, "All that blogging about not connecting is bullshit. You do connect. You connect in spades. You picked up the phone and put out the word and everyone came running. They took your kid (or tried to). They sat with you while you waited for the doctor. They called, e-mailed or sent you Facebook messages. People from all different periods of your life."
After that realization came the brutal conversation with myself about what an ungrateful, overdramatic brat I can be. So I'm apologizing. I'm desperately sorry, if I've jumped off the course for a while. It's not who I want to be. I'm hoping that tomorrow, when there's new light that separates me from today's sad events, I'll feel a little more self aware and a lot more humble to have so many people who love and care about me.
If you're still up, peek out your window. It's a beautiful moon.