how can this happen? how is it that three hours ago at work i wanted to scream? that it seemed i would have to spent the whole drive home talking with a friend on the phone about how rough today was? and yet, as i sit on my bed, taking off my socks and listening to coldplay, i can feel so good?
because i have good friends.
i don't live to work. i work to live. i go to work to earn money and a living so that i can spend time with my friends. so that i can have time to enjoy life. mark took it upon himself to start the 'pre-season' of 'classic movie night' tonight, meaning that i came home to a group of people thoroughly engrossed in 'babel'. i watched the last half hour with them and we all talked about how amazing it was and what it could mean and what we each got from it.
after everyone had left, mark confessed to sneaking a looking during out apartment prayer and noticed the condition of our carpet. 'we've had a lot of good times here,' he said.
absolutely. and that's why i'm going to work again tomorrow; so that i can continue to beat the heck out of our carpet.