Cellar No. 8

I sip on my cabernet while Maya, ready for bed in her long-sleeved onesie and pink and white striped leggings, watches Wonder Pets and nibbles on freeze-dried yogurt bites.  She bounces along with the music and “sings” along to the songs.  Chocolate chip cookies are baking in the oven and the sweet smell fills my home.  This is my Friday night. 

It’s almost perfect.  I just…  I don’t know.

I haven’t been writing much lately.  I did help with a song this week- arranged lyrics into verses and created the chorus- but that’s about it.  And the song was (basically) about a man’s need to poop, so I’m not going to brag too much about that particular accomplishment.

I’m not sure what’s going on.  Have you ever been at a place in your life where all you can seem to do is sit back and observe?  You go on about your days as usual; you feed and love on the kids, exercise for the appropriate amount of time, complete your work at your job, but life is weirdly… there. 

I need sleep.


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