With Friends Like These

Today is a new day.  I haven't cried once.  Well, not unless you count the happy tears.

It's amazing how just when the world seems darkest, just when the sky seems to pull a Chicken Little, just when your landlady kicks you out of your room and calls it an "inconvenience," that's when you realize just how lucky you are.

I have some really amazing friends.  Every time I lean into the wind, they encourage and support me.  They know me well enough to tread lightly with questions when I'm quiet, to know just what to say to help me through, to distract me with compliments, and to leave candy on my doorstep.

I have already eaten all of the Reese's Pieces.  I got home 30 minutes ago.

The last two days, I have felt like a wreck.  Discombobulated and scattered and stressed.  I haven't been able to keep up the strong and polite exterior I prefer, and as a result, I've gotten into an argument with my landlady, been way too cool about the fact that my sister just got engaged (sorry, Sarah, I promise I'll be more excited once I can get my shit together), and have generally shut people out.

And yet, they haven't shut me out.

People that I have known for ages, and people that I have known for less than a year checked in with me today.  They made me laugh (thanks, Mick), they made me cry (thanks, Chris), and I began to feel, above all else, strong.

Monday night, I ate dinner at my parents' house.  My mom made manicotti with spinach, and my teenage brother was appalled that she'd ruined an otherwise deliciously meat- and carb-heavy meal with vegetables.  He's been working out and trying to build muscle, so we all jumped on him about the ridiculousness of his complaint.

"I just need proteins," he said.
"Protein," I said.
"Proteins," he repeated.
"What is this?  Biology?  Why are you making protein plural?" I said.
"I'm strong to the finish 'cause I eats me spinach," my dad said, and gave a laugh like Popeye.

Friends, you are my spinach.  You build me up, you make me strong, and you help me when bearded men try to steal my olive oil ('cause that shit ain't cheap).  I am thankful every day for your presence in my life.

I'll end with a quote that a friend from college sent to me this morning.  It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and I've read it over and over again since.  Nikola, this got me through the day.  Thank you.

Courage doesn't always roar.  Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."
-Mary Anne Radmacher