Yesterday I pointed out the moon at our nearby park to my husband. “What would you call that?”
He looked up. “Waxing gibbous,” he responded automatically. My husband is what you might call a science and math smartypants.
“No!” cried our four-year-old neighbor. “That’s just the moon covered in clouds!”
Indeed, because the sky wasn’t completely dark, the moon did appear less opaque, like an ethereal tissue paper facsimile of the moon.
My mood yesterday was a 7.5. Despite getting two hours of sleep, I felt patient and loving towards my kin and anyone I interacted with from morning to night. I do have a tendency of being a little more carefree when I’m sleep-deprived, a slaphappy insomniac, but this time, I didn’t feel goofy or out-of-body. I felt like a typical version of myself with some minor headaches.
H.M.K. 