I died a small death last night.

And I'm still sore.

Rachel and I gave our body image fireside last night in my home stake. Except the audio/visual portion of the presentation would not work. It worked fine before the fireside started. But somehow between the opening song and my getting up in front of a congregation full of people, it stopped working. I've had this nightmare before, but usually I wake up.

There we were. Working without a net.

I flapped my arms a bit, but it was still pretty close to a crash landing.

This morning I thought of a joke I should have told as I stood there with the blood rushing through my ears. Rushing so loud, I couldn't hear or think or breathe. Dying a small death is louder than you might imagine. At least from the inside.

David was in Pennsylvania slaying the dragon, and so I cried myself to sleep.

I talked to him tonight after his very full day of exhaustive interviewing.

We cried a little together.

Cause we were both feeling for the other. Him with his dragons, me with my spectacular failure. Both of us doing our best to be a comfort from opposite ends of the country.

And tonight, the only consolation is that at the end of the day, at the end of the worst day at the end of the worst month at the end of the worst season of our life, we still have each other.

Tonight I cannot adequately say how glad I am to have married so well.

P.S. Yes, we are still in limbo. We've had lots of discussions about birds in the hands and birds in the bushes and gift horses and dead horses and fishes of all sizes in ponds of all sizes too. We move forward, in the dark...for now.