it's all good

That statement annoys me when I hear it, I don't know why. But I'm feeling much better today. Actually, I was feeling better last night. I don't know if it was the weather change, masturbation, or the presidential debate, perhaps all of it. It's all good!

I realized after yesterday afternoon's rain that the weather was so disagreeably hot and muggy prior that I was on the verge of tears. S often complains about weather like that, sometimes I think he's overreacting. But now I get it, finally.

When we got home from the airport I said something about it being "moist," he said, "It's been like this for three days." We have different thresholds with regards to weather -- I don't like it cold, he doesn't like it hot -- but he's more apt to comment on his discomfort. Not that there's anything wrong with that. (It's all good...)

Maybe it was because I'd just gotten back from Tennessee where the weather was quite agreeable, and where people had their thermostats set to 70 (which seems a bit frigid for indoors to me) and I had become accustomed to it (somewhat, with a down comforter on at night), but something was putting me on edge yesterday. I couldn't work, I couldn't do much of anything; I almost felt depressed, except that it was just inability to do anything, not inability to do anything combined with the wish for death!

The presidential debate gave me a renewed hope for this country. Barack Obama is the sweetest, most genuine and generous president (to-be) I have ever witnessed. Maybe it's an act, but if so, he's deserves the Award.

I had a dream a few nights ago that I hugged him. Or I should say we hugged each other. It wasn't one-sided. The thing I remember as I drew in close was that there was a dimple in his earlobe where an earring had once been. I don't know that he ever wore an earring, but for some reason that made him all the more real to me. (This was a nice follow-up dream to one I'd had a week or so earlier in which Michelle Obama had died -- been killed? -- and S and I were sent to Barack's hotel room to notify him. That was a really upsetting dream; I was rolling around on his hotel bed sobbing while he hugged S, and when I woke up I was still crying.) The day I woke up from the hugging dream, I saw on the web that he was walking door to door in Ohio shaking peoples' hands and giving them hugs. Therefore my dream seemed fortuitous.

I was actually quite jazzed when I got home last night; so much so that I thought I would do some more work (since I hadn't yet clocked in six hours and the end of the work week was today at 1:00), but instead I read through some blog comments on the debate and felt uplifted by all of it; it really is all good.

This morning I got up and worked, and I turned in a time sheet with twelve hours on it. Not what I'd hoped for, but I was about ready to call the whole week a bust this time yesterday afternoon.