Get Out of Here
“To live is one of the rarest things in the world. Most people just exist.”
I'm always having to remind myself of this - to get out more, to have more adventures, no matter their size. Today we took a mini road trip, puttered through a few stores, purchased both practical and impractical items, ate a meal packed with nostalgia, listened to two podcasts, and share one small Blizzard, which should have been a mini size (our eyes are always bigger than our stomachs).
I spent the morning with paper and glue, the afternoon with Andrew, and this evening a very hot bath and some light reading are in order before the week takes off tomorrow.
This is day ten of writing and sharing every day, and there is more I want to share about this, and likely less I should share about this, but none of that makes enough sense to actually put to the screen yet.
I wonder, with only two comments, if anyone is really out there, and that thought is always countered by this question: does it matter to me if someone leaves a note in this space? Will that make these words any more valuable? Will it make this practice any more important? I've got lots of answers, and then again, no real answers at all, so I am tucking those questions away for tonight and letting it go.