You know how I value our friendship. Or maybe you don't. But you should know that I do. There are various reasons, perhaps the most important in my mind is your absolute loyalty to Miss Emily in spite of the fact that you have never met her. Add your willingness to express exactly how you feel about whatever it is we're discussing and well, we're a match made in heaven as far as Internet friends go. We may not hold the same interests, political views or religious inclinations (and maybe we do) but there is that wonderful mix of I can be honest and say what I think and you can too. You have never hurt my feelings.
Like other friendships, it has built itself on trust and time. I feel no need to judge what you say or how you think or how you spend your time. I sit back and enjoy you for you. It's hugely refreshing to recognize that this is how true friendship is. Or, you know, can be.
When you write your letters to me and express yourself in your very own unique way, sometimes I don't completely understand your writings. But I always understand your meanings. I know you get me.
I have to tell you that this has not been the easiest week. No big deal for the most part but now I'm looking in the tunnel and it's not light I see at the end. It is that oncoming train. I'm used to things not going as planned and I am exceptionally good at shifting gears and going with the flow.
But right now, at this moment I want to stomp my feet. From the hairdryer that quit to the two trips to the veterinarian's office for medication and all that has gone on in between I am feeling frayed around the edges, tattered, torn, busted.
It is exactly one week until Christmas and while I believe that Christmas is about faith, hope, peace and love I can't seem to stop focusing on the very thing I tell others to not focus on: commercialism.
Not only have I not finished gift buying I can't decide if what I've chosen are good enough, inexpensive enough, expensive enough, trendy enough, will fit well enough or are the right dammed gift card. And why should I, or anyone else, feel harried and worried over gifts? We shouldn't. Right? I was raised by a mother and father who taught me to appreciate the very smallest of gifts to the most expensive of gifts. In exactly the same way. Sincerely and with gratitude for the effort (if not the cost).
So what in the world am I worrying about? Really.
I know you'll have an insight into that. I look forward to it.