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Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Hey, you know who rocks like a big rocking thing that is constantly set in 'rock' mode? That would be my husband.
For most of the time we've been married, he has been dealing with Sara's Vocational Crisis-o-Rama, which I have to tell you, does not come with a picnic basket. I myself am sometimes difficult to get along with, especially when I'm dealing with the big bad anxiety creature. But he just goes along, getting up at 6:00 a.m. so he can write before he has to go to his soul-crushing day job at the record store, and still taking care of the apartment and Clyde and me. I don't run out of Diet Coke, or cereal, or clean laundry, and it's pretty much because Dennis is on the job, while I sit and dither about what God wants me to do, which often takes the form of endless games of Poppit while I avoid doing homework. He's just really great, and patient, and sometimes he makes very yummy quiche.
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