It is six a.m. and my forty days are up it seems. Walking in bare, swollen feet to the copy room. They will not fit in the tiny ballet shoes like they did yesterday. They rub against the sides today, screaming that my forty days are up.
I've made peace with the spiders...almost. They just sit, they do no harm. They catch bugs for me and create photo ops for me once a day. "We don't want pictures of spiders on the walls, do we?" I suppose we don't. I promise them they will be on display someday.
Coffee isn't doing it this morning. I'm even writing slow. Now it's six ten a.m.
Burgendy paint is on my mind....
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