I recently wrote a theory paper for my race and ethnicity class. It's been a 3-day project, which is rare for me (for it to take so long). But, it's done! God told me to put it in His hands this morning, and He'd take care of it. That He did, so faithfully. I was at my wit's end during parts of that process!
Well, in my last stage of writing, I decided to change up the "scenery" a bit. It was 8 p.m. when I started writing. I'd just come home from the Manic Monday dinner out with the soc. grad students (fun, so glad I went). I decided I wanted to be cozy in bed. I grabbed a lap desk I acquired in 2008 upon moving to Mississippi (garage sale? previous tenant leftovers? I can't remember now.) A lap desk is something you can put in your lap to work that functions as a portable desk; it's a bean bag on the bottom, to lie comfortably on your thighs, and a hard plastic surface on the other side.
Well, this lap desk is defective. The beans -- little white Styrofoam spheres -- spill out everywhere. They're in my yellow bed sheets now like sand on a bathroom floor.
Like thoughts of the one you love.
You don't know where they're spilling from, or when you'll stop finding them in the next wrinkle of fabric. Ever-present...tiny...pervasive.
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