So I cried in the bank.

This is the 69th post on my blog.

Ha.

That's really not a lot seeing as I've had it for, what, two years? Ish?

Ugh. I am so frustrated with my words. I am repeating myself over and over because I can only use these words that I've used millions of times. I put them together the say way, and I have a natural tendency to start sentences in the same way and it seems to rote and planned and frustratingly mediocre.

asd;f sdf.xjxfkj in cmkeiufnc am,wefl izxjc nakejnf idn mw,efl zxdh nfwelifucxh w;ekjf hsd

I wish you could hear the thoughts in my head as they come, and the thoughts that aren't really thoughts they're more like feelings. Because I can't translate feelings.

I'll tell you about the other day. I was in the bank, waiting in line to make a deposit, and at the counter there was a mother with three little children. The little girl was sitting in the pram, and the two boys were playing somewhat unruly on the floor. But instead of getting annoyed with her children, who were obviously keeping her from doing what she needed to do, this woman spoke like an angel. She was so kind and supportive. She used positive language, told them how good they were to be waiting when it was so boring for them. Seeing this display of love after working in a shop where the benefits mothers waddle in and constantly scream, "Don't TOUCH THAT! I told you NO! Get OUT of the shop! NOW!"--I broke down into silent tears. This woman reminded me of my own mother when I was that little person playing on the floor of the bank. Love like this was a real mother's love, the love that I was given. It really got to me. I approached the woman and told her how wonderful she was. I had to choke back sobs. I don't know if I made her uncomfortable. But I wanted her to know that I wished all mothers would love their children like she did.

Anyway. That's my story. In my stupid English that is giving me serious grief. Oh well.