Okay, truth be told, I’m not responsible for a single garbage bag. I sat on the sofa yesterday in a Dexter-induced coma while Ron crumpled and bagged for hours. I would occasionally forage out for something unhealthy to fortify us (nuts, chips, pizza, ice cream. And a diet pepsi.) while we vegetated.
It was delightful. In that, “Oh yeah, the hero is a serial killer, huh?” sort of way.
So, it’s Monday morning. We’re now about 1/2 way through the 3rd season of Dexter. My office is filled with set dressing for “One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Treasure” which Ron is designing and building. It’s a beautiful day out there and I’m looking at my Wish List.
I think I got one.
Susan Scot Fry
Update… There’s a formula to wishes. The first step is figuring out what to wish for. Then, write it down. Then, put it out into the universe.
That’s as far as I’ve gotten, but I’m sure that planning, confidence, mindfulness, consistency and all that great jazz will be part of it.