I’m at a hotel with courtesy soaps from a brand I can’t afford in real life. I’ve eaten more free and decadent meals in a day than I might normally conquer in a week, and now I am tucked into this lavish seaside room with my laptop and my thoughts.
Nuggets for the day –
I can’t think of any good reason to get into a single-engine aircraft. Ever.
There is a special sofa in Hades for resort employees who put decaf in the regular pot.
Is the taking of the hotel provisions encouraged? PB votes yes. I think of them as gifts. It would be rude to leave a gift from thy bounty behind. This Luna Bar will be fantastic for breakfast…
Adoption. Last night I got to talking to a friend about adoption. She is for and I… though I had never laid it out all neat and orderly in front of me… well, I am… not for. Not for, for me, to be more precise. And not because I don’t think it is the ultimate in good deeds. I think it is the most selfless, perfect act of love a human can endeavor toward. It’s just… not something I could do. This makes no sense. After all, I adopted my dogs and I could never reconcile going to a breeder or heaven forbid a puppy store when there are so many dogs in shelters who need loving homes. I admit that I judge – and judge harshly – anyone who buys a dog instead of rescuing one. Yet for me, children, human babies, don’t fit into that ideology.
And I can’t seem to articulate why in a manner that doesn’t make me sound like a heel, which is completely astonishing. Because as you all are painfully aware, words are my currency. I always have the words. Have all the words. Sometimes too many of the words.
Yet this time I have no words. I just know I could never do it. I’d be that girl draining equity out of my house before I gave up the IVF fight and adopted.
Again. No words to paint the why. It is a deep, strong, visceral desire that would drive she who avoids artificial sweetener, all medications, and red 40 to accept injected science with open arms – all in the quest for a baby of her own – one she made with Mr. PB.
Selfish? Self-centered? Egocentric? Another Narcissus invocative? Perhaps.
I guess at the end of it all, I just want to see his blue eyes staring up at me.
Now, the time has come to pay my respects to the mini bar. Ya know. Gift and all…