Mostly because I was afraid of what would come pouring out through my fingertips.
It's a day to be thankful. And all us NaBloPoMo'ers still have to go post(al), even today.
I feel like a broken record this week, with all my goody-two-shoeness and sweetness and light.
Work is kicking my ass.
Life is kinda kicking my ass, too.
Yes, I know that I had that healing dream only this week.
And in my sentient moments (oooh, 50-cent word for today!), I know that I have it sweet. Great husband, great kids, great friends, a roof over my head (a nice one, too), a job that (mostly) pays the bills.
But late at night, when it's dark and quiet, when everyone else is dreaming of sugarplums ... I think too much.
I think about all the mistakes.
I think about two failed marriages.
I think about the damage that my bad choices did to my children.
I think about bad things.
I think about worse things.
I think about worser things.
I even think about how, when it came time for my 30th high school reunion (woot! I'm old!), I didn't go ... and I cried for hours because my life hadn't turned out ANYTHING like I had expected it to, lo those many years ago.
But I know I have to STOP thinking. Because if I do my calendar math correctly, only three months after that reunion, I met a certain man in a bar.
So today is the day that I officially get my head out of my ass and stop thinking too much.
And start being more grateful instead. And to remember that everywhere I've been has brought me to where I am.
Now, in the dark of night, when I look over at my sleeping husband, I will only think of that country song by Rascal Flatts:
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
'Nuff said, don't you think?