Let's talk, Francis.

St Francis de Sales. Buddy, Pal O’ Fucking Mine, listen up!

I stand by my long ago prayer requests, but I have some new things to ask if you don’t mind.

Please let the new puppy start sleeping through the night. That would not only aid my self-imposed ‘six a.m. wake-up and write’ calls on the weekends- which, right now, I’m not making at all, and I can’t totally blame that on Lilly, either- but it’ll make my husband happier. See, when he’s not happy, mama’s not happy. (Oh, and please make her quit chewing on my books, my fingers, my toes, the couch, my other dog, the cat….)

Could you please make it hurt a little less to look out my office window? It’s still beautiful out there, but knowing that the pond is empty now, and it won’t behave for us to put the survivors back – there’s an algae bloom, AGAIN, even though the thing is empty –  keeps me from wanting to go out there for more than five minutes. Seeing it out my window every five seconds sucks and I get distracted and can’t write. Please, if you can, give my husband a hand with that, too. I know he doesn’t write, hell, he doesn’t even read, but he could use the grace. We worked pretty hard on that thing, but now? Now it just hurts us both.

I don’t know if you have any influence on my day-job, but … wow. That would be fantastic.

Please remind me that the last year-plus hasn’t been a waste of time and all this aggravation and hurt will pass. Most of all, help me get my focus back and regain my faith in the ability to be happy. I’m tired. Really, really tired because my head won’t slow down. My nerves are jumpy to the point of twitching and, in spite of spending hours sitting here this morning, I can’t sit still. Nevermind having to chase the puppy all the time. She just got stuck in the box-spring. I mean, come ON.

Lastly, give the inventer of Xanax a pat on the back. He’s been a huge help for a few weeks now.

Also, let me send a thanks to the one person who understands and gave me a boost without even knowing she did. She’s “on my six”, and I’m more thankful for those three words than anything I’ve read in weeks.

Thanks, Francis. Tomorrow, it’s once more unto the breach….