Woke up at 4:00AM to a stupid smoke alarm chirping. It’s the worst sound. Tried to sleep through it. Couldn’t sleep. Got the ladder, took the alarm down and put it in a different room. 5:50AM came way too early with Justin Timberlake singing “Can’t Stop The Feeling” but it was the wrong day for that chipper song. Tired. Annoyed. Called mom to say I was up.

Why am I doing this? Getting up early, acting like I need to live 6 months to the fullest.  Who freakin’ cares? This is dumb. Maybe I should call in sick.

But I turned on the kettle, made some Dragon Pearl Green Tea and did Day 5 of Yoga with Adriene on YouTube. She was as chipper as J.T. and I wanted to punch her in the face. But I stayed with her. Then got back into bed to read more Genesis. And promptly fell asleep.

Where I dreamt I needed to get to work. On a pogo stick. A pogo stick with a seat. So, I’m hopping down the sidewalk, got caught up in the road construction, back on the sidewalk. And I met a guy who I knew in elementary school. He was really nice. His name was Tanner and his little sister was Gabriella. I told Gabriella I liked her name. I think she could tell I really liked her brother. Then I had to get to work so I hopped away. But it was 10AM and I realized I wasn’t getting to work very quickly. So, I called Uber. The End.

I can’t pogo, I never went to school with a guy named Tanner and I woke up at 7:37AM by the grace of God and got to work by 7:57AM. The extent of my praying this morning was “Dear God, I need a miracle to get through this day and work out some issues at work and if that’s not enough prayer for a miracle then I don’t know what I am going to do. Please work with this cuz it’s all I got. I’m not feeling very vociferous. Or happy. Amen.”

The other week, I was wanting to pray but I was feeling real discouraged. I said “God, I would pray more but I’m still waiting on you to answer the last prayer. How about you work on those prayers and then when they are answered, I’ll pray again?”

Well, He replied with “Really? Is that how this works now? You give me a Honey-Do list and sit back and wait? Oh uh uh. This is called relationship. You talk, I listen. I talk, you listen and we work together. Alright? Ok. Good. And I already answered your prayers so get up and get moving.”

Work today was actually better than expected-my ounce of faith worked. I came home to find my 2 books I ordered from Amazon that they said had “arrived” were still not “arrived”. So, I went to the neighbor’s porch. My package! I would have taken it but I didn’t want anyone to think I was stealing so I knocked. And knocked. And a new girl answered the door! A new friend. I never met her before and she was so nice and I promptly forgot her name. But a guy named Brian lives there too. Sometimes I forget girls and remember boys. It’s a gift I have. The heterosexual gifting.

Had dinner with the dear sweet friend I went to the movies with last night. We tried a new Catonese restaurant that has 3.5 stars on Yelp. I would give it 5 stars. It was delicious. Yelpers are funny people. Which is why I don’t Yelp. I am too serious. Fried chicken and Chow Phun. Nice people. Real divey. Delicious. And then we went and got plant-based ginger and turmeric ice cream. It was more delicious and made me feel healthy again. I’m gonna dream about that ice cream all night long. Then me and my dear sweet friend (“My Dear Sweet Friend and I”-sometimes I really don’t are about grammar but I know you do so I corrected) walked around and made mind-lists of all the restaurants we are going to try this summer.

This morning started out not so great. And whenever I’m in a funk-which is about one day weekly, I start to think I must need some anti-depressants or something. But I can usually shake off my blues with quick prayer, Chinese food, ice cream (even plant based) and a good hug (or a nap-which is hug from a bed) so maybe I’m gonna be ok.

(Oh I must report: I saw the movie Wind River last night. It was not a movie for the kids at all. A chilling murder film-based on actual events. But it ends with stating that the ONLY “missing persons” demographic that no one keeps track of is the Native American Woman. No one knows how many have gone missing. And you think you’ve been mistreated. At least someone is looking for you and writing down when you go missing, puts your face in the news, adds you to the statistics book. No one keeps track of Native American Women. They go missing and that’s it. What the hell, people?)