Two of my all-time greatest professional days followed up by a heaping dose of personal devastation.
Because this how the universe fucks with you.
Luckily, unbeknownst to the dumbass universe, I have back-up.
Dear, sweet Taylor who spotted trouble at 20 paces and sent me packing ahead of the storm.
Mark and Helen, whose love for me never wavers, even in the midst of emotional turmoil (theirs or mine -- doesn't matter).
Sweet Elliott, whose "Hi, Neena. Hi, Neena's" led me to a safe haven when normally I would have chosen to hunker down and go to radio silence. Your tiny voice is my siren song.
My Courtney and Heather who continually bring me back to the land of the living with a little emotional CPR. (This post title is dedicated to you.) And Laurie, who even when hundreds of miles away, is trying to stem the tidal wave via text message and inappropriate humor.
And Chris, who allowed me to break wide open in his living room and still had the decency to feed me Whataburger and Diet Coke. Falling apart leaves you starving and kinda dehydrated.
And my sister-in-law who, when push comes to shove, is willing to shove back for me and my family. Especially when I am frozen.
You are all proof that there is a God. And that He wants me to stay put. Even if I'm holding on by the fingernails.
I love you.
I love you more than I can ever tell you.
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