In a particularly and unusually positive mood this morning, following the near rage stroke I suffered learning about the Minnesota murder. Talking to and holding one of the cats for a minute while we looked out the window helped recenter me. The sun was rising. I listened to Cyndi Lauper in the shower. By the time I was done, the sky was a hazy baby blue and the clouds were blurred, bashful pink. The baseball field was holding on to about three feet of fog - or maybe two feet. I’m not good at measuring stuff like that without a yardstick. I started playing Tom Waits while I got dressed and put myself together. Mule Variations. “Picture In A Frame” and “Take It With Me” helped me cry out a few tears. I stopped putting on my socks, and just sat on the bed and let them come. Husband drove me to work, and I played Mary J. Blige. I sang along to “Everything”. Some jerk ran a red light and wouldn’t let Husband change lanes. He gets really upset on the road anyway, so when a jerk like that shows up he tends to flip his lid. To be honest, it can be pretty scary the way he loses control of his temper. He’s working on it, but I knew that stupid car had him upset. Before I got out of the car I stopped, I deliberately pulled his face gently into my hands and looked at him. “You are everything,” I told him, throwing back to the song we’d just heard. He told me to have a really good day.

So I guess I will.