Love that package

The day could've gone any of several directions this morning. I leaned heavily toward the state mental institution, but there are several drawbacks: hour long drive, costs too much, kids go to foster care, new cat will die, Scott might miss me, blah, blah, blah.

Another option was the local Super 8 Motel; not as glamorous as Blackfoot South, but less expensive, a little less stigma and closer. Still, the kids would have free reign of the house, and coming back to that disaster would be worse than any temporary relief obtained.

Then, there's the temple just 7 minutes drive from my house. It is free of charge, no stigma, and you come out smiling and pleasant in spite of having worn nylons. There's no amount of quiet time or psychiatry that can match spending 2 hours at the temple doing work for your ancestors. It offers peace and stability, and I needed some of that, today.

I received a package, today. It rivals the one Scott was given by Karilyn that included the most clever poster, "Congratulations on your Grand Opening" after Scott's exploratory surgery last September. Julie's included Dr Pepper, bubble gum, fake fruit, chocolate, and Beano. Wrapped up in little installments; I opened them all. Couldn't help myself. Apparently, I'm having patience issues. Thanks, Julie. Tell Nan she did a great job, too.