Last night we drank champagne in the park after last call, sang happy birthday to Josh as loud as we could, and played a wobbly and disorganized game of duck duck goose. Someone had soaped the fountain and we took off our shoes and scampered around in the water and tossed foam and when the cops showed up to chase us off I slipped back into my shoes with my feet covered in rocks, damp and suddenly shivering, there was no where else I should have been. And as we hobbled off, swigging the last of champagne, I was pretty sure that I could be struck down right then and it would have been fine.
And then this afternoon I sat potting my new flowers on my balcony, in old jeans and a sweater, the Mountain Goats wafting through the screen door and a pirate ship having a battle on Lake Union, and I stopped and checked again. And yep, I couldn't have been anywhere else.
Everything is both harder and better than it's ever been before, and I'm having a great time.
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