The triumphant return of the Morning 40 Federation

I've been sick with a bad cold and busy and tired, but nevertheless I dragged my butt out of the house last night to see and hear the Morning 40 play Le Bon Temps. It was so crowded that at first I couldn't get in the building. Girls were standing and dancing on the benches by the wall, and everyone was packed in, smoking, drinking and bopping around. I saw Chuck and Eddie from my old neighborhood. I didn't stay too long, but I was there long enough to hear the whole personal hygiene subset and "Sorry Mom." They sounded good. It was just like old times, only better because it meant more.

I needed that. Earlier in the evening I was talking to Mr. M on the phone, and I realized I sounded like I was falling apart. I'm not really in as bad shape as I sounded, but I am stressed, and I have been having a lot of bad dreams. Despite how good the show made me feel last night, I still went to bed and had a dream about catching a burglar in my house. I acted all tough and grabbed him by the hair and dragged him outside and kicked him out, but he just laughed at me and demonstrated that he could easily open the gate and get back inside anytime he wanted.

It's about feeling vulnerable. I've been feeling more aware of mortality and the speed of time passing and the cruel capriciousness of life. You can't be safe and you can't be sure of anything. But you can appreciate and cherish the people and things you love, and wholeheartedly enjoy the good things while they last. I want to appreciate what I have when I have it, not wait till I've lost it.