Allll By Myselfffffffffffffff...

… don’t want to be all by myselffff, anyyyymooooooooorrrrrreeeeeeee (cue the thick Canadian accent). I am officially in my place of residence (until September 12th) and I have to say, once I put away the groceries and sat down on my polka dotted couch to hear the slight hum of the air conditioning, I think I may be slightly lonely. I have lived by myself before but this is different. Yes, there were many a nights living with dad that we would say nary a word to each other but at least he was a warm body in my general vicinity. Now he is married and I am moving on with life.

And because you asked, here is my couch...

Life had me start a brand spanking new job on Monday. Life also has me looking for a condo or house for me to get all Martha Stewart on. Oddly enough, the prison she did time in is a stones throw away from work. However, the Alderson's Women's Prison is a holy place! You hear me?!

Speaking of work, how odd is the interviewing process? Normally, it's not difficult to speak about oneself, but for several hours? I was digging stuff out of my past that quite frankly made it appear that I was showing off. Like the time my roommates and I had a dead bird in the upstairs shower (true story) and because they did not want to touch it, I took charge of the situation (also known as being a LEADER), scooped him up and threw him my roommate (also known as having a sense of HUMOR.  That's important in corporate culture you know).

I was hired the very next day. (True story)

Dad is now married. This is a great development for all involved, most of all for dad. He announced to me a few weeks ago that "this will be very last load of laundry I will ever do, Amanda Kate!" The whole part of growing old and saggy together is lost on the man. Truly, I love June and am excited that she is part of our family.

But, in thinking about this new development, if the Lord grants it, I will know June longer on this earth in that mother/wife role then I knew mom. The brevity of her influence in my life is profound and its tale is one that could bring me to my knees if I dwell on it long enough. She exists now only in my memories, in the faint glimpses of her mannerisms, voice and laugh. As clearly as I can see my fingers on this keyboard, I can still see the faintest wrinkles on her face. Yet I fear sometimes that these last links to her will fade with time, like the yellowed hue on old Polaroids. You can see the generalities in the photo, but the clarity, the acute vividness has been compromised by time.

God is good, though. He is good all the time.

Good night, All.