Its super late Saturday night, I cant sleep.  I've had something on my mind pretty much all day.  Instead of accepting it, putting it in God's hands, and letting it be what its meant to be, I let it hang out with Max and I, and it pretty much made itself known it was here.

Or it was something that made itself known.  Because the first event of dropping my iTouch outside the grocery store and shattering the glass cover wasnt enough for me to say, 'Um, okay I get it.  Not. Worth. It.'  (why was I carrying the thing to begin with?  Max was enjoying his new app.)

Nor were the second and third events letting me know to let this thing go.  Second - I had just cleaned up Max's room and sure enough I stepped on the one plastic toy that I specifically/strategically put in a special place.  Third - not a minute later when I was picking up books and putting them away, one dropped out of my hand and right on top of the exact foot that had stepped on the toy. 

Finally I got it.  Unfortunately I was pissed at that point and threw the books I had in my hand across the room.  I walked out.  Max stood there stunned.

This 'thing', this insecurity, whatever it is has finally found its way in to the Ridiculous category.  Because *this* is the only thing that matters: