the end of a month

Frank's House, where I'll be holing up for the burgeoning
ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE!

June rolls to a close, and a bittersweet month it’s been, though far more bitter than sweet. John’s dad passed away to cancer, and Corey’s mom was diagnosed with cancer (but is doing pretty well with chemo). Ams and Josh broke up, which isn’t as extreme as losing someone (or the threat of losing someone) to cancer, but losing someone you’ve lived with and loved for so long is an emotional hell no one wants to go through. But despite all the bad things June has brought, there have been high points: John & Brandy’s wedding, Rob’s visit from Portland, and of course Corey had a kickass time in Europe (he’s back and sitting across from me at The Anchor; he’s journaling and I’m blogging and we’re both drinking coffee; we’re like two peas in a pod right now). July has its fortunes of promise: Dad and I will be camping in Red River Gorge, my cousin Addison is getting married, and DYLAN RETURNS FROM AFRICA! My excitement cannot be contained. 

One of my ambitions for July is finishing 1 Peter 2.11-3.7 in my devotional-slash-bible-study thingie on 1 Peter. Another ambition is that I can keep up with this whole “quitting smoking” thing. I’ve made significant progress in June, more than I anticipated; I can say with confidence I’ve drastically cut back on how much I smoke. Now the time for the plunge has come: maybe at the end of July I can claim “smoke free” status, but I’m sure it won’t be without a fair share of mishaps, depression, and irritability. Withdrawal will be a bitch, of that I’m certain. But I don’t want to keep pushing women away with my tobacco scent, and nor do I want my future children to watch their father wither down to nothing as tobacco-induced cancer shrivels my body to a mere pasty skeleton.