If we were having coffee, I’d say thank you. Thank you for meeting me at a coffee table, at the other end of a screen, on a curb, or on my couch.
Thank you for reading my rambles.
Thanks for the books, and the butterfly magnets and the mural.
Thanks for beers, real or fake, and the ones I owe you.
Thanks for the Altoids and the Beatles. Even the unsolicited advice. It makes for good material.
Thanks for those de-stress colouring books, which I actually find really stressful.
Thanks for not mentioning I need a haircut, and eye makeup. And possibly more Prozac.
Thanks for the Baileys. And for the glass with my name on it. And for being there when we got the house. And helping us move into it.
Thank you to Dad and Anne, for making Christmas dinner, and other stuff. And thanks for being there that other night when I lost my shit.
Thanks for making a path for me, for fixing our heat, and for running ALL the hotels we’ve stayed in this year.
Thanks to Isla, for being an awesome individual, for making me laugh and cry. And for falling asleep on me sometimes, still.
And thanks to Neil, for leaving when I turn on country music, and for always coming back.
I promise to never blog about the time I found you in the kitchen singing Red Solo Cup.
Let’s do it all again.