This morning felt like a Disney cartoon.

Produced by sweatshop workers, that is. Just joking.

This morning was beautiful. It is sunny and wavering on the edge of warm, just cool enough to feel like a softer version of brisk. I walked to Anna Bananna's (and yes, that is how it's spelled--local coffee shop, wonderfulness) and got their signature drink, a chocolate and banana latte. I also purchased a marionberry muffin and watched Nadal v. Monfils on their TV while reading Harper's. It was pretentiously delicious.

As I was walking back to the house, the doughnut shop nearby was hosting a church car wash 'n' wax--a man and a teenage boy were waxing a gorgeous, cherry-red Mustang. All the trees are blossoming, there's pollen in the air. I stopped smoking four days ago (on day 5) and I can smell the flowers. I said, "That's a beauty-ful car." The man said, "Well, thank you, sir!" We may as well have tipped our top-hats at one another.

And twirled our waxed mustaches.

Then, a pit bull puppy (probably about six months) on a leash tied to a traffic sign came trotting up to me, tail all a-wag, and hopped up, placing his paws on my thighs. I scratched his head and chuckled, almost tearing up over how amazing existence can feel.

I can't really explain it. I guess, as the commercial says, "Cymbalta can help." For a while there I took everyone's advice and avoided antidepressants like the plague. It turns out that I may have found the right one for the first time in my life. No side effects. No wiry, manic feeling. It's not really helping with my pain issues, but those are caused by actual physical problems more so than by depression.

In related news, I met with an orthopedist yesterday. Surgery's the word, kids.

I'll keep you updated--I have neglected this blog for far too long.

The world is not a cold dead place.
We are not yet the lost.
Despite calamity come and gone,
a light--oh, yes--a light remains.

Love and kisses and babbling baboons,
Ross