I'm gonna write fast and get straight to the point because that cold front just blew in and it's dropped from an almost balmy 48 to a sloppy 36 in the time it took us to get toilet paper and detergent from Wal-Mart, and I still have to put the faucet covers on the outside hose spigots before I go to bed.

I saw "Couples retreat" tonight and learned three things:

A) I can still be a controlling jerk, and it's painful to watch
B) I need to put more effort into appreciating each day with Toni
C) Life should be more than just "getting through it"

That last one is a personal struggle for me. I can still hear a voice in my head telling me that this is just the way it is, and that we're only going to struggle and suffer and scrape by until we die; that life is hard and full of sorrow and strife and turmoil and failure, and there's o end to it because God cursed Adam in the garden and now we have to struggle to eke out the barest living from the sweat of our brow from the dirt of the fields, O' yea, shalt we walk through the she shadow of the valley of death forever and evermore, Amen, saith the LORD.

It's so hard to feel any joy or squeeze any happiness out of life when you think that's all there is to it, ya know? I still struggle with that.

It's funny when you find deeper meanings in silly movies, but you find value where you find it.

Recovery-wise I caught myself getting rattled at Chils's with Toni and our daughter tonight, but I think I got a grip on it pretty quickly. No rhyme or reason, an nothing special about anybody - it just happened. I didn't really have time to "unpack" it or try to dissect it and psychoanalyze figure out the root cause, either. I just ducked and quit looking. I'm not sure if that's cowardice or bravery, but it worked, though I still feel a little sense of shame when it happens.

Toni and I were talking about recovery-related stuff tonight, and one of us made the comment that "It's not how strong you are - it's how weak you're willing to be." To this day, I think that one of the toughest things to do is to admit to yourself that you're not strong enough, tough enough or smart enough to do it on your own; to simply say "I can't." And man - is it hard, funny, heartbreaking, dumbfounding, painful and all-too-familiar to watch somebody that thinks they can keep on keeping on. It's humbling, too, because if you're real with yourself, you know you're only about two decision away from being a hell of a lot worse off than they will ever be.

Anyway, that's it. Faucet covers.

678 (for Thursday)