Go ahead. Ruffle my feathers...

My husband got a new truck today. It was his consolation prize for being crazy. Lucky for me, my husband thinks this is a funny joke even though he suffers from PTSD.

His VA benefits finally came through, and so he decided if he must be crazy, he should at least do it in a nice vehicle.

I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much as he has today. He was even giddy when he showed me his remote start. I wasn't very giddy though. I've been wanting remote start for my car for eeever. To warm my car up for those three wintery days in Texas, you know.

I like to look back at the two of our lives, bombarded by various hardships (that we caused ourselves for the most part), and admire how far we've come.

For instance, just a couple of months ago I woke up with a chip stuck to my face after getting Ruffle drunk following an unfortunate misunderstanding with my boss, who asked me to get the fuck out of the building. OK, that's a mild variation of the actual conversation, but you get the picture. I went from consuming three pints of french onion dip a day to finally getting inspired and writing the first of many books on my list of to-dos.

It's clear to me that we all need the crappy times in life to get to the good shit. I couldn't be more excited about the things to come, for myself and my crazy fucking husband. I see a day where he won't be crazy in the least. I see a day where a Ruffle may just inspire greatness, kind of like one cheeto inspired the "A Cheeto Named Larry" blog back in 2005. Maybe a Ruffle named Ricky. Who knows!

The point is, when life looks terrible and you don't see any light at the end of the tunnel, keep on truckin'. Let's all grow together, hopefully more inward than outward. Happy Tuesday!