Ah, the reason I hate putting things off: I never get around to them. And here I am again blogging while doing laundry and willing the sun to come out. My brain does not toggle cold/hot easily enough for me to be living in a non-tropical area. Seasons just exhaust me.
Don't misunderstand me, I don't think that all the people I wanted to mention don't now deserve mention now that I've put it off so long. I've just made myself so neurotic about the risk of leaving out someone who has meant the world to me (yet again) in the last few weeks, and have panicked so about what to say about these people (these people who make my sanity and marginal pleasantness, if not my life, possible) in a format where they, and everyone will see my remarks and praises, that I'm sort of sparing you all the tortured excercise I forsee it being.
Besides. You know who you are. Your ears are still ringing with the constant refrain of my journey-bleating when I begin the serenity-croaking. You listen to me when I need to be listened to, and you tell me to shut the fuck up when I need that. You laugh delightedly and tell me how happy you are for me when I am amazed to be doing well. You defend me and succor me when I'm dissapointed to be doing poorly. You wrap your arms around me at the slightest opportunity and help me find the heart to love me, too. And you trust me to do the same for you, in the way of friends. No list of names and why-I-love-thems, this far after the impulse to share it, will be adequate, so just keep in mind I'll be looking for ways to appreciate you practically, since you know you're on the list.