Better Now

It's amazing -- the healing power of art.

After my pity party in the morning, my father and I went down to the art museum. Since last I visited, it has GROWN . . . the new building is open. And it was beautiful and fun. Dad dragged me around the building, showing me it's angles and his favorite pieces. We lunched in the fancy restaurant with the big windows and watched the snow and the city people walk by.

I had forgotten how a city is in snow . . . how good brick looks on a gray day . . . how long black wool coats look good on every single person who wears them.

And suddenly my future seems kind of possible. Suddenly I'm not afraid of the boy and I'm not thwarted by work stuff and I'm not nearly as miserable. This morning I cleaned the kitchen. Sure sign of mental health.

Ahhhhhhh.