I know that going to England for the weekend sounds fantastic and romantic...but it wasn't. It was incredible and it couldn't have gone better, but it wasn't full of seeing great sites and inspiring situations. I sat with friends, talked, danced, tried haggis, told stories. It was refreshing...and actually, come to think of it, I was inspired. I wrote for the first time in a long time. I mean... I write everyday but it wasn't required and it wasn't a blog that won't ever get published (though it may be one day). It was two pages of soul overflow and I liked it, something I can't say for much/any of my writing. I'm sure it will be short-lived and in a week or so I will want to destroy it for fear that I may die and someone else will read it. yes. come to think of it... I think I'll go burn it now. Thank you, Anne Lamott for the knowledge that I'm not alone in my mental illnesses.