Isabel and I have gotten up from a nap on our living room floor. She has gone back to sleep in her little pink dog bed (made for a cat; she's a very small dog). I sit at my new desk by my new window which faces a playground across the street. That playground happens to be in Portland Oregon, where I happen to be too.
I hear a 9 or 10 year old boy at the playground tell his friends, "Hey guys, did you know that every 40 seconds some guy commits suicide?" None of his friends are impressed by his fact and they keep on playing.
I check my email:
What is your mailing address (heh, heh, heh).
Love
Leif
This is the first time he's signed "love" since the fight in March where he decided he no longer wanted to be married to me. Maybe that means he's coming to Portland to bring me home (Pasadena, outside Los Angeles), in response to last night when I texted him, "I wish you were still my husband." Probably not, but you have to admire my spirit of optimism.
I do and you are plucky
ReplyDeleteI should probably redirect my pluck.
ReplyDelete