got a few purple hearts myself

After I awoke this morning, I exited my bedroom to find my 13 year-old quasi-sibling laying face down in the hallway, engaged in what can best be described in Biblical terms as raising a lament. As a point of background information, it should be noted that Randi goes to some kind of weird hybrid private school where she only attends classes two days a week.

The other three weekdays are presumably intended for the completion of assignments given during the two class days. I say "presumably" because it does not seem likely that the school intends for these days to be filled primarily with Hannah Montana reruns and trying sweaters on the dog - which is all that seems to happen. Fortunately for her, she inherited my frightening erudition, such that studying could be considered detrimental to a preternatural aquifer of information and intellectual acumen.

I suppose she didn't really inherit it, since we are not in any way related, and it therefore does not make any biological sense to suggest that she did. It is much more likely (and scientificly valid) to postulate that she gained it by osmosis. Across the aforementioned hallway, wherein she is now lamenting.

"What are you doing?"

"I am. SAD."

"Why?"

"Because it's a national holiday, and I have to do homework!"

"...it's Veteran's Day."

"So?"

"Soooo... are you a veteran?"

"Yes. I am a veteran of life. And none of my friends have to go to school today."

"But you never go to school on Monday. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday."

"Ugh! You don't get it. Just leave me be."

So on I went to the office - looking totally cute in my new shirt and tie, which I got from Goodwill and the J.Crew outlet, respectively. And even though I had just chided Randi for her mistaken assumption that the free world stops for Veteran's Day - the office is almost completely abandoned.

Which is nice. Because I can get lots of work done. Or write a blog post. About how utterly worn-out I am.

I was in Fort Worth Wednesday through yesterday. I got no sleep Saturday night and had to fly back Sunday morning in time to preach. I tend to black-out while speaking, and even more so yesterday, seeing as how I was running on no sleep. But thanks to five cups of bad coffee and two absolutely sublime double-chocolate cookies, I managed to pull myself together and it seemed to go over well.

Also, the double-chocolate cookie is certainly the King of the Cookies. I would dare say that there is no reason to waste the calories on anything less. Longingly my heart doth wait for a fair lass skilled in their creation. But who can find one such as this? A woman who by her very hands forges the Songs of Angels into cookie form? Nay! I have retreated too far into the realm of fantastical things. And my discontent with a life devoid of the double-chocolate cookie is crushing. A life lived as though in a mirror, dimly.

Have a great week!