I'm so happy my computer is healthy, and I can spend the night ignoring the essays screaming to be corrected in favor of rewatching DOCTOR WHO on Netflix streaming.
I want to stop taking the parts of my life that bring me happiness for granted. That includes my blog, my writing, and my health.
Another minor eff-up to my week was that I couldn't find my driver's license. I couldn't remember when I had it last and retraced my steps to the few places I had been during the week, asking tellers and cashiers if someone turned in a license and feeling like a scruffy nerf-herder the whole time.
I hate when I do shit like that. Losing my license put me right back in my twenties when you could open up the dictionary to the definition of irresponsible and you'd see my picture next to the entry.
A shameful fact: I spent two years with an expired license, praying that I wouldn't get pulled over, but not really giving a shit because I was an idiot.
I never want to be that person again. I don't now if circumstances forced me to change, if I made an unconscious choice to change, or if I outgrow my assholery, but I'm not that person anymore.
Until I reached into my back pocket and realized I was one precious piece of plastic short.
I scoured my room and the living room and the trash. Then I prayed to Saint Anthony something fierce and resigned myself to going to the DMV for a replacement.
Saint Anthony came through (as he does), and I found my license on the table in the spare room. I don't know how it got there, maybe my sister found it on the floor and put it there for safe-keeping, but my knees went weak in relief.
I'm not the same person.
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