Lucy is awake first, and her impetego is on the mend.  For being supposedly “adaptable”, I’m certainly less able to roll with the punches than I would have thought.

Since, I only have so much time before Lucy finishes pulling it all out of my closet. . .

I’m doing this because I want to start saving my thoughts, because I want to remember what it feels like to write, and to think a whole thought, and I’m doing it because I finished my ordination requirements on thursday so I am doing this because I can and I’m doing this hoping no one will see it so that i don’t have to be critical or edit or put on a fake face but I’m doing this knowing someone might see it so that I don’t revel in my own crap for too long, so that I don’t start writing like I’m emailing (as in with crap grammar) and so that it can still be practice just in case I do want to write for real eyes.   So I don’t know if this is my journal or scratch paper but here we go.

Oh, and I can’t believe how angry I can get with a two year old.

Oh, and I finally felt the desire to sit and pray, but I started this blog instead.  Careful, Aminah.