Rooted, I used to think.

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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Day Fifteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Fourteen - Saturday, Feb. 09, 2019
Day Thirteen - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019
Atonement - Thursday, Feb. 07, 2019

Tuesday, Nov. 22, 2011 @ 9:54 am
Feeling Better

Well, I feel a little better now.

I recieved a thank you card from a friend who stayed with me for a night back in August.

I called up my parents' neighbour, who was like a second mom to me while I was growing up, to ask her to recommend a florist. She went far beyond a recommendation. She marched down to her favourite florist (Flowers by May at Lonsdale Quay), picked out a gorgeous autumn boquet in my price range ($50), and secretly delievered it to my mother on her 65th birthday.

Enough snow has fallen for cross country skiing. I've been twice since Sunday.

I finished my work log and dropped it off at my old company for the engineers there to sign off on it. Once this is complete, I will be able to shake free any residual anxiety from working there.

We had a couple different people over for dinner in the last week. A friend of D's from school. Recently heartbroken and thankful for the company. The piano tuner?? That's a strange one. I want to write a book about this man. The travelling piano tuner. Tucking into shephard's pie and jabbing a knife into my vintage butter dish.

Working through things with D. I admit my failures. I work to better myself and our relationship. I am hopeful of repair. We both need each other. We belong together.

Social life at work is improving. I spoke out at a corporate visioning meeting. I hadn't intended on speaking, but it just sort of happened. Long story. Now everyone, including the CEO of the company, knows who I am. According to several people I didn't make a fool of myself, rather, I brought up a valid and important aspect of business: ethics. I also figured out how to do something in AutoCAD that nobody knew how to do, so that has made me a minor celebrity in the civil design group.

Alf's diarrhea has disappeared.

I try not to think about money. It's for the best.

I read The Help on the weekend, and there is a line in it where one of the maids says something along the lines of how rich people worry about whether they are happy enough while the poor don't have time to think about such things what with trying to make ends meet. Sort of got me thinking.

Roots | Shoots