(I apologize for the lameness of this entry, but I spent myself visiting every non-work-appropriate site I could think of once my internet was restored. Ok, maybe it hasn't been "restored" so much as "stolen from my neighbor until I get the new network card from Dell and re-configure my own wireless." Still, you get the point. Here is the venom-laced shortness.)

If you’ve ever been in my bad graces, you know what I mean.

Adam used to say that when I was happy, it was like the sun was shining on him. I don’t know what that means about the other times, but Katrina comes to mind.

Some people, for some reason, get this pass—this free pass that entitles them to neglect me again and again. I’m not sure why, or how. All I know is that when their luck runs out, it’s OUT. Take for granted my attention, my affection, my desire to bake you cookies and flatter you until you’re not even sure you’re mortal anymore—you’ll see a whole different side of me. The softness is revoked. And once you’re in that place, it’s mighty hard to win your way back into the sun, into the Eden of my admiration.

Maybe you thought I was a pushover, or a sucker for you. Maybe you didn’t realize it, but This is a gift. If you choose to squander it, well, that’s your choice.

But don’t say I didn’t warn you, when you see those dark clouds rolling in.