being the one left behind

Somebody began the first leg of his trip around the world this morning when he left for Chicago. Tomorrow he will continue on to Shanghai, then to Xi'an, then to Beijing, and then back home again, home again, jiggity-jig.

So, to help me not think about getting into bed by myself tonight, I'm just going to post a picture from one of our most fun days this spring: Can you tell what that is? That is the front door of the theater where we saw Wicked! I had been looking forward to it for months and months and was pretty much giddy with anticipation the entire week before. I was thrilled that Somebody enjoyed it as much as I did. Good times. Good times.

On a completely unrelated note, I was running an errand for a friend in my ward and dropping something off to someone else in my ward, and the woman that I did the dropping off to came outside of her house and chatted with me a little bit tonight. Much to my surprise, she remembered quite a bit about me and Somebody and where we were working and schooling and we had a great conversation. She recommended some books on cd that I should listen to and we exchanged the names of some of our favorite authors. My point here is how random and delightful that 15 minutes was. Here was someone that I probably never would have stopped in to see on my own (even though I drive right by her house on the way to and from work each day) but when I did we immediately found common ground and I left with a smile on my face and, surprisingly, a feeling that the day had gone very well. Isn't it wonderful how the smallest, seemingly inconsequential things, can have such a huge impact on how we see ourselves and our accomplishments?