Simple:

It really is too bad life can't be simple in it's entirety. Very few things are cut and dry, black and white. There are lots of shades of gray.

But a few things are simple.

For example, Owl Cities' song "Meteor Shower":

"I can finally see
That you're right there beside me
I am not my own
For I have been made new
Please don't let me go
I desperately need you

I am not my own
For I have been made new
Please don't let me go
I desperately need you"

11 lines. 50 words. Simple.

I was in an Owl City mood last night, but this song really hit me this morning. I don't know what the song was written about, but I know what it means to me.

Each day I wake up is a blessing. God has given me a purpose, I just need to live it. Too bad He won't just explain it all to me, it would save me a lot of grief. I hate messing up. I make a lot of mistakes. But He has taken me and made me new and that means second chances (and third and fourth and fifth and sixth...). Forgiveness is a wonderful thing. It feels good to receive it, it feels good to give it. Resentment never pays off. It's actually bad for your health to hold resentments. It raises your blood pressure, changes what hormones are released and what amounts are released. It's best to just let go.

As Grace has been telling me, just go with it. What happens, happens. Simple plan, complicated execution. Practice makes perfect, so I'll keep trying.

On another note, I need to see a freaking chiropractor! My lower back is killing me. I can't sit comfortably. I can stand, walk, run, lay down, but sitting is too painful to do for longer than 10 minutes at a time. Looks like my Tuesday just got busier.

I'm really looking forward to the gym tonight. I'm going to try to get Christy to play basketball and do some boxing with me again. My wrist started bugging me last week, so I didn't get as much time with the punching bag as I would have liked. I'm hoping one of the trainers can show me how to wrap my wrists so I can really wail on the bag without doing permanent damage. My knuckles are usually red and sore afterward no matter what. It's a badge of honor. :-) Plus, it makes me feel totally bad ass.

I need to learn how to cook. I can get by with the skills that I have, but when I'm a fire medic, I'm going to be expected to have better culinary skills. Plus, the better I can cook, the less time I'll be spending cleaning the bathrooms. The ones who can't cook can do that. ;-)

Time to shower, get my room at Alice's tidied up and do some homework. It looks like my goal of writing my firefighter health and heart disease paper will have to wait. I need to finish my a/p vocab first.