The First Saturday in June

Roughly one year ago today (taking the leap year factor into account)I was in Washington, DC with Gordon. We took a trip to the National Gallery, and it was pouring. I now refer to this day as our "soggy adventure." I was moneyless, without a functioning umbrella, and my shoes squeaked all throughout the museum.

I awoke this morning to the sound of rain batting the window panes in my apartment. I'd been dreaming of wretched interlopers of various types, all making clicking sounds. As soon as I'd rid myself of one, there was a new one with which to contend. My mother wove through these nocturnal images like a bright, but frayed thread.

As soon as I was conscious enough to consider extracting myself from the covers, I thought of last night's dishes. And then my bathroom, overdue for it's semi-weekly cleaning. I decided coffee would be my reward for knocking these two tasks out first thing instead of the prerequisite.

I've made a list of personal goals to accomplish during the summer months, one of which is to paint my apartment (the foyer and the living room). I just have to be careful to do one thing at a time so I don't get overwhelmed and bag the whole list. I do that to myself a lot.

I've also decided that I'm going to try going to the church I attended in Baltimore city from 1995 to 1998; it's time to go back. I was lying on my couch the other night, and I just realized it. simple as that.