i should like to write now of expectations, for the summer is nearly upon me in all its humidity and opportunity.
i wish to read. Among my list: Harry Potter (haven't read any of them); Les Mis (can never read too many times); and Outliers (by Malcom Gladwell). There are many more, but this blog has never been exhaustive in its efforts to disseminate information, so i see no need to begin now.
i wish to wait on people at tables in a restaurant, and get paid for my services. There is a long story behind why i hope to do this and not do what i had planned on doing this summer in Richmond. More on that in a week or so. [hopefully]
i wish to play with my dog on a regular basis. i wish also to take her on walks most mornings.
i wish and desire to wake up each morning and make the decision to love ardently and passionately. To love co-workers and treat them with a respect foreign to our culture. To love my parents with a thankfulness that does more to reflect the immeasurable impact they have had in and on my life. To love my sisters as a brother who seeks first to protect and care rather than deride and annoy. To love the woman God has put into my life with humility and grace. To love God. To really love God.
These are but a smattering of my expectations, for i am expecting much. i am expecting this summer to be the most prolific time of my life to date as a writer, and so i look forward to sharing with you--in what is to this blog perhaps a new format--what the summer holds. i am not aware of your expectations as a reader, but i ask that you expect great things. i ask that you expect difficult things. i ask you to expect that those two are often very closely related.
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