Signs

Ever since I read "The Ceiling" by Kevin Brockmeier, I've called stress and negativity in my personal life "the ceiling."  Sometimes I've felt it moving down and down, closer and closer to the ground to crush me, flatten me like that steel machine that warms tortillas at Chipotle, heavy and hot.  Recently, the ceiling has been coming for me.  I was sued, someone screwed up our insurance application, I have a busted tail light, I got yet another rejection.  And not just my personal life.  The killings in South Carolina really had an emotional affect on me.  Everything combined made it feel as though that ceiling was moving closer and closer, down and down, so that I felt suffocated.

But if you ever believe in signs...

Langston went to the doctor and he now weighs over 22 pounds.

I settled the lawsuit.

I've written three short essays, one flash piece, and revised a longer short story all within the last two weeks.

I have four pieces out on submission.

SCOTUS made my marriage even more legitimate by ensuring that everyone else can get married too.

The Confederate flag is on its way down.

James now says, "I'm okay," when you ask him, "are you okay?"

I go on vacation in two weeks.

There are good things happening.  Today is a good day.  I am alive.  I am blessed.  I am happy. 

And although the ceiling will never go away, I just raised the roof.