I moved away from the other side of the door

But then opportunity came knocking! I'm back on cloud nine. The disaster relief has progressed again-- just when I thought we were a lost cause. Oprah sent her Angel network, the Red Cross moved in, and the Mormons came out to lend a hand with gusto. I received two simple emails that felt like pouring concrete for a new foundation. I'm moving my sandbags over to friends' hearts, where they are more needed now. I love restoration and reconstruction, don't you?
On an unrelated note, there is no longer a need for you to search out a pity date for me to Bridezilla's wedding. Just kidding, Ashley! My dear little Paul, on the heels of his own frustration and heartache, has not only agreed to be my beau for the evening, but also he plans to wear a brown suit and a pink tie. I hope he keeps his beard, because I think it's so snazzy. And even though it's like going to the ball with your brother, Pauly is the bestest, and I wish he were my real brother... though that would have made our recent hand-holding pretty ooky. Don't worry. When Paul and I hold hands, it is to platonically lift up the others' when they hang down.
As is to be expected given my current life schedule, I'm exhausted... and it's only 9 a.m. But my heart is dancing again. Tender mercies, my friends, tender mercies.