I slept poorly, with my boss’s boss standing beside my bed droning on about who knows what. Oh, wait--I fell like I need to know what. It felt like all the stress of working on the conversion project this past summer, without the benefit of knowing something after. Awoke, if that's the right word, to Sufjan singing "Come Thou Fount," which is the most played song on my iTunes playlist by a hundred plays or so. "Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be." Words to live by today.
I love my family, past the point of pain at times, to a place where irritation and joy and argument and pride (the good kind) all find a more or less comfortable place to stay under the same roof. (More comfortable at times, and at others -- less.) I found an old birthday note my grandfather sent me. Like always, it was not a long emotional letter, but rather a drawing of a stick figure that was saying, “Happy Birthday,” he had scribbled on a page from his prescription pad. My grandfather is one of the giant figures in my life (though not necessarily in stature.) At 90 years old he is still practicing medicine three times a week at the free clinic he started. He passed his medical boards last year which are good through 2015 (which would make him 96 by the time he has to take them again). Amazing. Someday, like in 73 years or sooner, I want to be just like him.
[EDIT: Error. For those of you scoring at home, 27 (my age) plus 73 equals 100. HUMANITIES MAJOR ALERT.
Guess I should start some work and get on with this survival business. Or should I say sur-thrive-al. More soon. Happy Thursday. I can't believe it's already almost the weekend.
the lovely work of Finnish illustrator Sanna Paananenimages via here.