Stalled out.
Our snowstorm seems to be stalled; I’m tired of wondering about snow that doesn’t come. Our attempt to get the kids plugged into other youth groups is stalled; no Young Life tonight after all. My desire to find or compose a compelling blog photo is stalled; we’ll call this one “loofah still life”. Our search for black bottoms and white tops for Anastasia’s paging week is stalled; I don’t want to drive to Portland Saturday to shop. My productivity seems to be stalled; I’m just tired.
At least the scale has stopped stalling; it’s finally on it’s way back down.
Our snowstorm seems to be stalled; I’m tired of wondering about snow that doesn’t come. Our attempt to get the kids plugged into other youth groups is stalled; no Young Life tonight after all. My desire to find or compose a compelling blog photo is stalled; we’ll call this one “loofah still life”. Our search for black bottoms and white tops for Anastasia’s paging week is stalled; I don’t want to drive to Portland Saturday to shop. My productivity seems to be stalled; I’m just tired.
At least the scale has stopped stalling; it’s finally on it’s way back down.
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