I am driving the Bronco and the road's green fields of spring grass and flowering borders become steep gorges as I round a corner. Shifting or slowing down are impossible. I feel like pillows are stuck under the pedals and rubber bands keep wiggling the steering wheel away from me. I peer over the familiar curved hood with one rust spot flaking away and wait for that roller coaster twinge to grip my stomach.

Just a dream. Anxiety dream?Yes.

A friend asked if I would want to give Lily away to another home where the family can love her and I can have my life back and a little peace and maybe snap back to normal, except the line of scrimmage is gone. The announcers went home and the cheerleaders have not shouted my name in a long time.

Lily gives me purpose. I have no children or spouse or car payments. Aren't all adults issued at least one of each immediately after they see their first tax bill? I am not working to send anyone to college or keep a child happy. Car payments are a $200 expense that I was never able to afford, and after a peek inside a new car you can't talk me into that sheath of plastic and electronics.

I am not being cheep, I am being picky.

Spousespousespouse. Jerry and I live together, but if I call him SPOUSE! he may greedily gasp his last. He knows enough not to marry someone unbalanced who takes pity on random scrawny dogs, plants, and worms trying to struggle free from puddling rainwater. I also veer wildly into another emotional octave where everything is intense and I cry get angry rant rant rant and question my job life future past and everything that I can drag into it right then. I smash and throw things. I am blowing up miserable unhappy and really just drained and determined to find an exit. There has to be better stuff out there, I think. Why can't I see it? Then the blame. I start blaming myself because Jerry says, DON'T BLAME ME!

I fix air conditioning, Kendra.

Oh. Uh oh.

I have Lily. She is too much work and worry. She needs to be out and running or at all times occupied. She needs a companion and to be a companion. She needs to think.

My friend asked me, why do you think she needs a job to do?

It's her expression. She looks at me like an empty vase waiting for me to fill her with her own purpose. She wants to learn. I can tell by the amount of energy she spends on her curiosity. It has infused her posture and habits. Despite her questions or my answers, we still speak different languages.