In the Classroom

It was a strange feeling, surreal almost, returning to that room. 

Brett and I are taking part in a marriage class through my church, held in one of the classrooms of my old high school--the same classroom that once belonged to my mother. It's where she taught us History,  Spanish, Home Ec., and a host of other subjects. In a strange way, it's where Brett and I fell in love.

As we sat in the class last night, my arm brushed against his atop the small formica table; and that instantly brought me back to sophomore American History, where we sat together at the table in the front row on the far right. I would purposely bend my elbow his direction while writing, hoping to brush against his left arm. Sometimes, while I was taking notes, our pinkies would intertwine for just a second, sending shivers down my spine. 

It's funny now that we're taking a marriage class in that very same room. I caught myself glancing out the very same windows, into the Memorial Garden, watching the clock hung on the same nail between the windows. I faced the same white board where my mom would draw modern art versions of the state of Minnesota when I was in seventh grade. It was the same classroom Brett and I sat at the back left table during Civics and filled out our extra credit work--deep in competition for the higher grade. Nine years ago we were just a couple of kids in that classroom, convinced we knew what it meant to love. Heck, maybe we really did. 

I think Brett knew he was going to marry me before he even asked me to be his girlfriend. He was always so sure about us being able to make it, even when I wasn't--even when I didn't want us to make it. It's like he had already looked into our future; saw our wedding day, full of pink bow ties and calla lilies; peered through the kitchen window of our little brown house and caught us slow dancing; and he just knew, even at 15 years old, that we would get a happily ever after. 

And you know what, I'm glad he did. 

The Thing Is...

Uh, okay, here’s the thing. This is the thing. Okay, the thing is...

If you're Chandler, you now yell, "What is the thing?!"

Believe me. I'm yelling it at myself right now. But really, here's the thing:

There are so many things. 
  
Many, many drafts are sitting in my blogging queue, I just can't click Publish. They're unfinished, or untimely. They just aren't ready. There are many more drafts in my mind, waiting to be penned. But they are not yet thought out fully. I'm not ready to share them. 

So, my mind is full of things right now. I'm feeling anxious and stressed. I am tired. All the time. 

There are just too many things. 

Because Life

I've been neglecting my poor little blog because life.

The play is over, and I can breathe again. 

It's starting to feel like summer. I sat outside in the beautiful 94* sun yesterday and enjoyed every moment. We even played softball, where I sweat bullets just standing in center field.

At Awards Night last night, I awarded my dear kids the honors they deserved for their hard work in volleyball and the play.

My job gets a little hectic in the summer/fall season while I plan and stress over our Annual Luncheon.

I'm hoping to play co-ed volleyball this summer. 

A week ago Thursday marked the one year anniversary of my grandmother's passing. It was a difficult day, but I kept busy. I wore the heart pin the funeral director gave us in memory of her. 

Today I give blood, for those who need it and those who cannot give. I struggled with the idea of not going today for various personal reasons, but I've decided to go. I need to do something today that requires some sacrifice.

I need to find something selfless to do every day.