Cheer up, Sleepy Jean. Oh what can it mean...?

Well, it's August 22nd... What does that mean? It means that I have 3 more weeks to have a complete, mental break-down. And then I've got to get married. I guess, in the grand scheme of things I haven't got a whole lot to belly ache about. I have a place to get married, a dress to wear, and shortly I will have a person to make it official. Still...

The latest news that I ought to rewind and let you good people know about is that I've found a job. Lorain has opened it's loving arms and introduced me to work. It's not non-profit, but it's close enough for me to wake up every morning and enjoy coming in to do what I do. It's a program called Newspapers in Education and it promotes literacy in the classroom, which (having a cousin who couldn't read at the age of 11) I can appreciate. For some students, I imagine reading is like knowing your times tables (a thing I struggled with in elementary school). If you know your ins and outs, you can slip through the academic cracks. Although, sooner or later you get cornered by that teacher who quizzes you relentlessly and then bars you from going to the next grade unless you know your letters/times tables. I take for granted being able to read sometimes, I know. I've been plagued with book-love since I was 3 years old. I can remember lugging around my first hard covered book ,which featured a tale about Tommy and his Mommy, and reading off the few words I recognized until I recognized them all. Thank God my mom was so diligent about teaching me.

But I digress. I'm working now, and there maybe a honeymoon in the works for Sonny and me. I hope so. There's just so much involved in the planning. I've never had to micro-manage anything before, and to have all these people turning their weary eyes to me, seeking extraordinary detail...Well, I do pity them. My knee-jerk response is "I'm sorry, I don't know that yet." I'm trying not to spend too much time on auto-pilot, but it's just complicated when my mind is on this wedding, and it ought to be at this brand-new job. Cut to random files on my desktop with names like "wedding stuff" and "honeymoon ideas" and my supervisor hopping on my computer randomly. I'll be glad when I can get rid of those embarrassing displays of personal preoccupation.

Things are looking up for Sonny. He loves his job more and more everyday, and I'm finally tussling with the idea, the possibility that maybe we won't be going back to NY. I can roughly sketch the shape of things to come, and I won't pretend it's not obvious. The more furniture we get, the harder it gets for me to imagine a tiny 4th floor New York apartment containing the two of us and our belongings. And once our first child is born....Pennsylvania may be the closest I'll get to my sweet home. I'm no soothsayer and I don't possess divine knowledge, so I won't slam the padlock shut on this one...But I'm also not expecting any miracles.

Can anyone tell me, how do you breathe, again?