Friday, April 23, 2010

gray day's aren't all bad

Today was really gray and cold. Ezra worked and I had the day off. I really had no drive to do anything.
We've both had colds all week, and the apartment was a mess, and there was laundry to fold, but I didn't feel like doing anything! Even though we are going on a date tonight, it is soo far away!
 I put on some 50's doo wop music, which usually gives me a little energy boost, and it helped a little, I got through cleaning. Then I ate a sandwich, and had to have one of those cute cupcakes Ez brought home last night from work, They were seriously so cute! but eating it must have sent me over the edge cause I was nauseas right after for a while. I moped around and grumbled for a while, then told myself I had to do something constructive! So I made this collage

  It's something I started a while ago then dropped when my creative juices ran on empty for a while. wow. I feel soo much better! I want to create and design and make and craft and whatever you want to call it! I feel.... Well,  I don't know what I feel, but not nauseas! Funny how something little can brighten your day. How finally doing that thing you have been putting off can give you such renewed energy! 

 Sometimes you have to force yourself to do something. To pick up something you left off, or start something you've been wanting to do. Or spend some time talking to Jesus. You know you you like doing it, you know it will feel good and be good for you, but for whatever reason you are hesitant. But you have to say to yourself  "after you do this, you will feel all sunshiny inside! You will probably get out of that funk! You will feel good afterwards!" Yep, sometimes talking to yourself is ok :)

ps that poem on the collage is"trees" by Joyce Kilmer. looove it!
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

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