...asked the cashier at the checkout in Kroger this afternoon as she scanned my purchases. What? A cheap little one serving bag of flavored coffee and a box of frozen toffee bars are that obvious? Still I can't put all my eggs in the comfort-food basket, since I can't afford to buy a new wardrobe of plus-sized clothes to accommodate this method of countering depression.
So here's my plan, God. I need us to relive the scene playing in this picture here, with me doing Nolan's part and You doing mine. Remind me that even when I feel like my fractured roles in life (wife, mother, teacher, housekeeper, cook, laundress, well you know them all...) are in combat with each other and using faulty weapons against each other at that, for instance--the kids are sick, the dryer doesn't work and I don't have a clue what my theater class curriculum has us doing tomorrow--nevertheless, laying a guilt trip on myself isn't going to improve my circumstances, nor my mood. So kiss me on the top of the head, God, and send me on my way, relieved that You are present and reliable, because I'm sure I'll have some tops of heads to kiss myself quite soon.
Sincerely yours....Debbie
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