I don’t wish to treat this blog as a journal, but that’s what I’m reduced to, as I have procrastinated all the livelong day. So here we are, going on 9:00 and I’ve got nothing.

I have desperately wanted to turn my phone off today, due to conversations I’ve had, as well as conversations I felt were on the horizon. But I didn’t turn my phone off, and I didn’t have a nervous breakdown, and I managed not to bite anybody’s head off. Score! The bottle of wine I shared with my cousin after work helped immensely, no doubt. As Ernest Hemingway said, “write drunk, edit sober.” I’m halfway there!

In case you didn’t know, I live under a rock. I have never been to Trader Joe’s. I thought it was some upscale gourmet grocery store. Evidently it’s a home for fantastic cheeses and $6 bottles of wine, so I gotta get there pronto Tonto.

Stumbled across a song today that I haven’t heard in decades. “Say Say Say” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney, two of my favorites. Funny how music from our childhood sticks with us, but I could hear a Taylor Swift song seventeen times a day and at best may get the chorus by the tenth playing. Nothing against Taytay, just my memory is quickly dissipating. And I’m not remembering the important stuff either, before you try to come to my rescue.

I’m tired of being told I’m picky, even if it’s true. Maybe if more people were particular, we’d all be happier on the whole. Sure, I have high standards. You should, too, in all aspects of your life. I don’t want to see trash on the side of the road. I want people to have tidy yards. I want whoever is selling me a product to say hello, then the total, then thank me and tell me to have a nice day. Is this too much to ask? I want men to date that tell me I look nice and hold my door and make another date before that one’s over. I don’t want a “wyd” text three days later. I want EFFORT.

I want people to be honest with themselves so they can be honest with me. I want my best friend to have a safe, stress-free flight to Texas tomorrow. I want her sister-in-law to pass peacefully, with no further suffering. I want my dog to know that he’s safe and loved and will never be on the streets or at the shelter again. I want to always have enough money for tires and home repairs. I want to only read worthwhile books. I want to have people in my life who can always go for wings and beer and talk about books.

I want snow and everybody to be cozy and warm at home, and then I want long summer days on the lake. I want all beef hotdogs and hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. I want my coworker to stop sniffing and blow his nose. I want my 1199s to be without error the first time I type them. I want to see Alaska and tour castles in Ireland and spend many more long weekends strolling Savannah.

I want things to change, but also to stay the same. I want to write and be paid for what’s in my heart, not what I’m told to say. I want glee and spontaneous laughter and flowers just because. I want glitter and much ado about nothing and picnics. I want to lay on my back on a blanket and read poetry by day and watch the stars twinkle at night. I want candlelight and campfires and citronella candles or maybe just a bunch of bats. I want to be kissed silly every day for the rest of my life. I don’t want passion to fade. I want romance forever.

I want to tell you about my childhood, raw with emotion, with no judgement. I want to compare our lives, and shake our heads at how different it is now and what it was like for your children, too. I want to be able to stop playing these mindless games. An addictive personality is a mildly dangerous thing.

I want to ride strong, fast, willing horses and I want to learn to fly a helicopter. Why has no one invented personal wings yet? I NEED them. I want products to ring up correctly and I want to possess an innate sense of how to do taxes correctly.

I want to eat wedding cake every season but somehow avoid attending the wedding. I never want to be invited to another baby shower again. I want to decorate and buy fun pillows and smell candles and look at art. I want jeans to fit right away and always, and my bra straps not to show. I want to wake up and know what I want to wear. I want a commute that moves at 60 mph. I want people to text me when I’m on their mind.

I want you to love life, love reading, love food, love the Lord. I want you to find joy in the mundane every single day. I want us to count our blessings and hold out hope that we’re all gonna be okay. I want you to love a dog.

Love from Appalachia,

~Amy