I'm just not a cat person.

I learned that this week. With the most precious, sweetest, friendliest kitten ready and willing to adopt me, I only kept her for a night before finally admitting to myself that through and through, I am a dog person. If a pound-and-a-half of pure gray kitten softness can't win me over, there's not much hope that it'll ever happen. At least I know that I'll never be the crazy cat lady, right?

This week's other lessons include the rediscovery that a bit of yoga each day is essential and addicting (how did I walk away from it for so many years?), that writing letters I'll never send (while cliche) is an extremely effective way to begin moving on, and that my new Brita filter is one of the best $2o I've spent in a while (I mean, clean cold water on demand? In the weeks before I give in and turn on my ac, this is priceless!)

I've been so preoccupied with my circumstances, my responsibilities, and just "getting through the week" lately that I've lost focus. My goal for the upcoming summer months is to regain the focus I once had for my future, whatever that turns out to mean. But even more than that, I am trying to focus on the numerous things in my life I currently take for granted: the way the moonlight pools around my pillow on clear nights, the easy jokes with my favorite coffee shop server, how my hair shines shines shines as I drive - sunroof open - under a canopy of tall oaks on my way to the water...

Green thumb.

While I was at home this weekend, I couldn't get over my parents' lawn. It's an electrifying green color and the grass is thick and the hills beg to be rolled down. It's exactly how I remember the grass while growing up, but I think I convinced myself that my childhood memory had fictionally enhanced the alright, just so-so grass that I've seen in recent years past. But oh man. This lawn is begging for a game of touch football and firefly catching and bare, dirty feet.

Last week I finally bought myself an orchid, something I've wanted for years but just recently acted on. It's tall and graceful with four bright blooms that just so happen to match the new "plum seduction" nail polish on my toes perfectly. It's no sprawling yard of soft grass, but it still grounds me in a way that brings my mind back to "one step at a time"...

Inhale.
Exhale.

Please God let it rain again tonight.

i'm so close to remembering why i love what i love that one more gentle nudge in the form of a 5 a.m. downpour would surely bring me back...

(more posts, of a less-vague nature, to come soon. cross my heart.)