The Olympics are over. I am so grateful to all of the athletes dor inspiring me.

 It's almost my 39th birthday.

For this year my wish is to be a better version of myself to allow myself happiness, time outside, time with animals. To be a better daughter and friend. I know it will take work but I believe I can do it.

 I requested to be off for the first fourth of July in forever because I thought I'd have plans. 

That kind of majorly backfired and now it's a little comical. 

I wish I was swimming with you.

 I've had a fun, very busy past week.

Today I was outside in sun and in the pool and it was amazing. Definitely a happy place.

 I'm off today.  I never usually take Memorial off but I was stoked things were going well with this guy so I did; now I work Labor Day.  Serves me right I suppose;)  I'm going out with an old friend today, so at least there's that.

All of my friends had babies, so now we have four beautiful PICU babies and I am so excited for all of them.  There are two girls and two boys, and everyone is healthy and beautiful.  I'm so grateful.  

I started making this list for Tom, things I would tell him.  Each happy thing I want to blab, it's so funny.  Like the news about all of the babies.  I'd also tell him that there's a new Beach Boy documentary on disney plus that I really want to see.  I'm such a weirdo. 

In retrospect, I think I fell for someone who didn't fall for me.  The hardest part is getting older and wanting a family so badly.  But at least I have my job, and the ability to love on many patients who don't have enough love of his or her own.  I always think, maybe this is why I found my way to this job.  Maybe this is my calling.  But also I still have so much love to give.  I'll keep trying but it's definitely hard.  There's this lump in my throat and pressure behind my eyes and I just feel so fucking alone.

I went to Poetry Daily's site today and the daily poem was pretty perfect for today:

Barren Trinkets

Lisa Ampleman

Each imagined child is a talisman, Catholic scapularrubbing your neck, piece of felt you must keepin good repair. No, not that easy—they'rethe shrieks on the wind, a playgrounda half mile away and cradled in the valley's acoustics.

from the book MOM IN SPACE / LSU Press

 Not strong enough by boygenius

Can we have an end to the fuckboy era? I'm over it.