I spent half of yesterday thinking it was today.
Pathetic. Does that mean I’m wishing my life away, that I’m becoming forgetful, or that time flies when I’m having so much fun I can hardly see straight?
I vote for the last one.
So much loveliness.
I could be under house arrest and be thoroughly entertained.
You know.
Like Martha.
She probably loved it.
But I’ll bet her house was shiny.
Organized.
And had labels on shelves.
A crudless keyboard.
But I have an azalea that blooms all year long.
Amazing, isn’t it?
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