Matt took it upon himself to start doing the grocery shopping a few years ago. If I remember correctly, I think it had something to do with me spending waaaaaay too much money each time I did the shopping. Whatever. Anyways, being the frugal consumer he is, Matt switched from Publix to Walmart in an attempt to save money. It worked. In fact, it worked so well that some Sunday mornings when Matt arrives home from Walmart with a trunk full of white Great Value boxes, there is also a fresh bouquet of flowers just for me. He's a keeper, I know. The bouquet he picked up for me last Sunday was particularly stunning. It has been 5 days, which is normally the lifespan for most Walmart bouquets, but amazingly my arrangement is still going strong. That is, all but this one particular flower. When I walked into the dining room this afternoon, my eyes were immediately drawn to the slouching flower. Everything about it still seemed so perfect. Every petal still firmly in place. The color still vibrant, but yet there it stood, wilted and lifeless, with no hope of returning to an upright position. I plucked the flower from the vase, quickly snapped a photo, and then tossed it into the garbage can. The rest of the evening my mind kept going back to the image of that sulky flower, and I think it is because it reminded me of "me." My adulthood has been plagued with bouts of depression and anxiety, and I often feel exactly how that stupid flower looked today- wilted and lifeless. So, I guess the point of all this mumbo-jumbo was simply to say-Today I connected with a slouching flower. I took a picture of it, then threw the flower away. It reminded me of how I feel when I'm sad. The End.
My name is Katy, and I'm a native Floridian. I have three precious children, and I've been happily married for twelve years. I enjoy the simple things in life, for example, freshly brewed coffee, a good movie, perfectly seasoned steak, and silence. At our house silence is truly golden, and when there is that brief moment of silence, I usually fall asleep before I can enjoy it.
English is my first language, but I also speak whine. This is a language spoken mainly by hungry, sleepy children. I became submersed in this language after the birth of my first child. In the beginning I only understood the language, but now after three children, I not only understand it, I speak it- fluently.