Rain is plummeting towards, pummeling-plashing-pounding my apartment building and probably also the rest of Tulsa. It has been too long, Precipitation.
This is positively the best sort of day to have the sort of day I'm having: an unexpected reprieve from mindless orientation activities, a day alone at the apartment to clean and bake and spend short moments scampering through puddles in order to 1. take out the overflowing (nearly) kitchen trash 2. roll up my car windows (poor upholstery!) 3. check the mail. Punctuated with lightning that barely registers on my dining room wall, held back by the incandescence of indoors, and the far-away snores of thunder; overlaid, of course, with every Chris rice album I have on iTunes (6, not counting the Christmas one).
And to look forward to (like dessert): After the banana muffins emerge sugar-topped and spicy from the oven I will splash to my car and go to purchase necessary things like: toilet paper, and cotton balls, and brown sugar, and butter, and then:
AND THEN--
I will go to Barnes & Noble and buy a new journal.
People give me journals somewhat frequently. At the moment I have three empty ones. But I can't use any of them. One I will never use because I think it is somewhere across the continent and another I would not use of everyday journaling--probably more for writing letters out of--and the third I've begun using for plots and stories and ideas that I am terrible about writing down and thus remembering.
So you see I need a new one. I really do.
Also: I am learning that grace is a posthumous process. it's monumental in my mind--
Oh, it's been one of those days
where you walk with me so close
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