This is not my typical blog. Generally, a thought sparks, and I flow with it. Today, however, I am but a vessel of words, exhausted by the task of holding them all in. I must deplete myself of their presence... Eventually they will come together to form one idea. But the process in creating harmony between them may indeed be a journey!
Wow, I really should be writing my paper for english right now. That, along with putting a binder together for women of the Bible since it's due next week... actually, I really shouldn't be online at all right now. This is me being a poor student.
It is true. I am dramatic. I tend to exaggerate my voice, laugh too melodically, and whisper too loudly. Sometimes I assume everyone understands what each one of my looks mean, and I feel honestly saddened when I realize someone does not know how to read lips. Especially in church. Cory McCool taught me this valuable trait of lip-reading. As he led worship, he would to talk to the sound men in the balcony, sometimes telling them to turn such and such up, fix this microphone, or perhaps to mute sister so-in-so who sings off key.
I'm not really sure what's wrong with my car, but it's sincerely infected with a disease most unpropitious at this time. There is but a mere hope of it recovering, and I am deeply grieved. My precious 1992 Oldsmobile... dear Aunt Jemimah–the car whose timing chain runs about as slow as a cold bottle of maple syrup–she may soon go on to be with the next victim of her hypocrisy. I'm telling you, she is a pathological liar. Everything the check engine board warns me to check is in reality perfectly fine, while everything else is falling apart, leaking, and sending me haywire in search of a mechanic who won't take advantage of my femininity. I know nothing of cars... and it's painfully obvious. The guys at Ray's Fender-Mender see me walking in to their greasy oil shop with my skirt and clicky high heels and they begin to count the ways they can sucker me into buying headlight fluid. I'd rather be in a coffee shop across town with blueberry tea and a fantastic book, and they know it.
But..a cup of tea can change my entire day. Coffee may normally induce a more calming atmosphere for me as well; but tea, specifically, is the ultimate form of peace in liquid form I have yet to discover. A simple cup of cozy is all it takes to bring me back. Back to my senses. Back to my thoughts. Back to myself. I am forever indebted to its familiarity and comfort. I firmly believe that a lady ought never be without one good box of teas, and a cup into which she can pour this delightful diamond of a treasure. I prefer the vanillas: rooibos, chai, french. But you decide what brings you back. A cup of cozy may be the beginning
of a new day for you. mmmmmm.......enjoy.
