Sometimes I wish that I had a laptop. Just so I could lay in bed and type down all my thoughts as they enter my head. It seems that the 12 feet from my bed to the computer desk is enough time and distance to dissolve any brilliant ideas I have while laying down, watching the fan make its endless rotations, both of us wishing we lived in a place where it didn't have to constantly be in motion.

But for breakfast I had toast with boysenberry jam. Yum.

The day looks like it's going to be hot today. So much for thinking I might trail run today. But there's always tomorrow, though for some strange reason, I don't think I will be getting up at 6am to go running.

Last night a lot of the past people in my life were out and about. It was kinda weird when you remember how you two used to be pretty darn close and always had a good time and for some undefined reason, yet definitely a reason, you now just look at each other when glancing up from your conversation with the same regard as a stranger. In some aspects it's good, in others it's creepy that people could be so cold.

Do we give to just get something? Do we want something back?

When we no longer feel that we are getting what we need, do we turn our backs? Or do we overlook the lack of reciprocation? Maybe that is why we love and cannot for the life of us define love. It's that endless mass of energy that fills in the cracks where our mortality simply cannot cover. It bends and molds to how we need it to be. It comes in varying forms, from common courtesy to passionate love to a quiet friendship. That's how we make sense of putting up with the constant flaking out of some friends while others get the slip and we "forget" to return their text messages.

Or why we still call our mothers even though she will in one way or another add in the conversation that we need to leave our wicked ways and return to the light of God... "So you made chicken last night? I always knew you were a good cook, just like you are a strong person, are you going to go to church on Sunday? You have to work at it to get a testimony." And I reply, "the chicken was good, but I liked the tomato based sauce better."