One of my dear coworkers picked me up from the airport and dropped me off at home 10 minutes later.
Snuggled up with Maya in my arms for what I thought would be five minutes and ended up being an hour, awakening to a phone call from a former coworker asking how my trip was.
Went to work and caught up with all of my coworkers that I hold dear, sharing the books I found when I wandered into Elliott Bay Book Company for a delightful two hours.
It's the best bookstore I have found in Seattle so far.
So many international titles.
My coworkers could relate to my purchases: Audre Lorde's Zami, Zaatar Diva by Suheir Hammad, a book to help you practice Gandhi's philosophy, and a book on grassroots organizations making social change.
I love my coworkers.
It wasn't until after I left work and was wandering around the grocery store stocking up on staples that I got a little depressed.
Is this is what my life is about?
Wandering around grocery store aisles alone at 7:00 pm at night?
"Who I am is happiness," "Who I am is happiness," I said to myself as I tried to get the depressing interior monologue to cease.
Cuddling with my dearest always helps;which is what I did when I got home.
Listened to A.'s son, an innate drum player, his father is an Afrobrazilian percussionist after all.
Later, stared at my bookshelves full of books and miscellaneous "supplies."
Journals dating all the way back to 1992.
New Orleans, Illinois, South Texas, Guatemala, New York City, Houston, and Washington State.
Oh yes, and a short excursion to Lebanon.
It's all there within these pages.
Why have I kept journals all of these years?
I have no idea.
What will I do with them all?
I have no idea.
This is who I am: Peace, Limitless Inspiration, Love, and Happiness.
And it is all recorded in a series of journals.