So. It's the fourth of the month and all, but is it to late to do that thing? That nononano, noblomofosho, whatever. You know. Where you HAVE to write everyday, lest you be spontaneously imploded or some other most unpleasant misfortune? Okay, then I'm doing it! I know that I am only setting myself up for failure (Wow, the former optimist that used to be me would be highly displeased with that comment) but I must try. It's probably going to come out as some strange stream of consciousness thing that made my high school journals very strange and hard to understand. Good luck!
Right now Faith is asleep in her bed, hair still in braids. She fell asleep next door, curled up in Papaw's armchair. James is behind me on the couch feeding himself a bottle. Jeff is outside, escaping the world for a few moments of privacy and cold, fresh air. I am writing (but you didn't need me to tell you that, did you?) and watching CNN.
I've never been this excited about an election. This morning I actually woke up feeling a little giddy, like on the first day of school or actually more like when you have that ultrasound appointment that tells you what gender your unborn child is. All of the sudden everything that you presumed or made tentative plans around suddenly falls into place.
This election day will remain forever in my mind though for another reason. My sister-in-law, notorious for being a consistent and problematic troublemaker, just dropped a bomb on us all. I can't get it out of my head. I don't want to go more into it right now, just in case one day I'll actually tell my family that I have this little hobby here and they suddenly find out that I'm writing all of their secrets. But imagine, shocked silence after unexpected words and a hasty exit from Jeff and I.
So. Here I sit, wondering about our nation, wondering about my little-sis-in-law.