Odds

We flushed Slippy today. Candles were lit around the toilet, a eulogy was said by yours truly, and a moving rendition of Friends was sung by those of us who grew up with Michael W. Smith.

I'm in the midst of repairing the entirety of a car (damage not my fault) and a laptop (damage partially the fault of my supposed "thunder fingers").

I'm exploring the concept of contentedness in singleness: an ideology I once had almost perfected, but I'm a little rusty. I'll have to work on it.

Against decent odds, I'm engulfed by love. Praise the Lord :)

I don't mind odds. My favorite number is odd. My favorite books are often odd. In truth, I have enough odd-ness in my favor to last an eternity. The goal, presently, is to focus on the "in-my-favors."