Cider Press Hill

The magic phone call

Much to my surprise, Ian called last night at around 1:00 to have a chat. He just wanted to talk. And tell me about EVERYTHING. He is having such a great time. He’s met a ton of people, made friends already and, well, there’s this girl who spent the day with him and wants to spend another day with him today and maybe even tomorrow. We talked and talked and talked. He bubbled over and it was so darned good to hear it. He is happy. And fitting in easily. And his roommate is a virtual clone. It appears they can practically finish each other’s sentences, they are so much alike. Their room is set up, they have the comforts of home. They love it. They’ve already had their discussion about what goes and what doesn’t in the room. What the boundaries are and all that important stuff. They are quite pleased with themselves.

There is also a request for a care package. Someone forgot the remote control to the television. Gads, what hardship. And as long as I’m sending stuff...maybe some cookies and well...a little cash wouldn’t be too hard to take, either. Cracked me up.

I feel so much better. I don’t know what it was about that phone call, but it just made me grin from ear to ear and lifted my spirits immensely. He’s happy. Really happy. And he wanted to tell me all about it. Well, of course that made me feel better. I think it’s going to be okay. I’ve been kind of checking myself over this morning, trying to determine if anything is still broken...do I really feel that much better or is this just a blip in my generally miserable outlook this week. No, I think there must have been some curative elixir in that phone call. I *do* feel better.

Oh and I joined the gym yesterday and signed up for a stained glass making class and made an appointment to have my hair cut and pertied up on Tuesday. I think I may live through this after all.

Posted on 08/26/06 at 02:40 PM
 




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