There's a Quartet....

To my happy place I go. I flee. I turn up the volume to drown out the world. Oh, to scream. To yell. To let out a mighty and barbaric yawp. Breathing helps. Deep breaths. Petting Apollo. He's fairly calming when he's not using my leg as a scratching post (and even that is somewhat endearing right now). To bed I will go soon—but I have miles to go before I sleep. And stress to discharge along the way. Sorry Sally, my quartet doesn't play Madam Butterfly, but rather "Pretty Donna" by Collective Soul. And I see waves crashing against rocky cliffs. An Icelandic gull soars over, calling out. And I am relaxed. If only it were that easy. More blogging tomorrow. I'm out of time.