Dear Diary,

I actually don't believe in diaries.

I wish that I did. But I cannot reasonably be expected to write down private things in such a non-secure location, and then leave them unattended. I mean, do you remember those little fake locks that used to be on our diaries when we were kids? And then we left them in our rooms all day long while we were at school. Not smart.

I think that's why I blog instead. I guess I figure that if someone might read what I write, then it's better to expect that everyone will.

So, Dear Diary, and Everyone Else,

This morning I woke up and decided not to make a pot of coffee. I'm not really sure why. Then I hemmed and I hawed and I stood around the kitchen staring at different cabinet doors. And then the Oracle from the Matrix appeared to me in a vision upon one of those cabinet doors, and said, "We cannot see past the decisions that we do not understand." And then I understood. And decided to make a pot of coffee and just get on with my day and stop staring at cabinets for so long that they became movie screens.

True story.

Oh, and also, Connor has been eating dehydrated pineapple chunks like candy lately. Mostly because that's what Daddy told him that they were: candy. I think it's the largest amount of fruit he has ingested since his days of eating bananas at the grocery store with Daddy. Woot!

Much love,

Julie