Love limits our complaints. Gratitude censors them.
Today is almost over and I'm here looking out the window on a lonely Sunday evening. Debra's on her way home and should be here in about twenty minutes. I made her dinner, spaghetti and salad. I also mopped the floor and made the bed. In between, I did what I always do. This time, though, I wasn't as hard on myself. Instead I accepted my state and resolved to wait for life to favor my cause.
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