Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

(Alternate title: "No Hair Today, Goon Here Tomorrow")

I'm in my wonderful apartment tonight, looking out at the woods through my big patio window. It's so peaceful and beautiful here. This is the nicest apartment I've ever lived in. I love everything about it, even my big corduroy couch (I complain about it, but I all know it's the best non-bed sleeping spot this side of the Red River). There's potential here--potential to decorate, to expand. The TV sitting on the floor says to me "It's only up from here, Baby."

I'm so excited to be in a place with potential. A place physically, occupationally, culturally, and even (gasp) intellectually (let's not talk about this too much yet, I might begin to feel faint...returning to school is still a long way in the future).

Well, having expressed the wonderfulness of my situation, I have a little tiny complaint. The "no hair"? That's because there's no dog here yet. My dear dear Roxie is waiting to move in until this weekend, and I miss her lots. I need her beside me, my best friend. But I'll get my "goon" tomorrow, and then I'll have fresh frustrations to vent... the pillows are trembling, awaiting her return (she likes to shred them).

And here's a little thank-you prayer for all of this.
(I have a hard time with public expressions of this sort, but I wanted to say that I am oh-so-grateful for my new situation, and I want to say that yes, I am blessed. And yes, I do thank God for my life today...what a wonderful gift I've been given, a gift of security...)