the sun's out. I can see the mountains from my little coffee shop that has become my second home (its probably 100 yds from my apartment and has free wireless while I have no internet at my apt.). It's a stereotypical gorgeous day here in Denver. Honestly, I don't think Colorado knows what yucky weather looks like. There have been maybe 2 overcast days here all summer. And when it thunderstorms, it rains for maybe 20 minutes and then the sky is blue.



But there's a piece of me that craves the overcast, rainy day where I sit cozy at home wrapped in a blanket or curled up in bed with my school books. I remember the same sentiments when I came home from India. I was in Nebraska on my way back to Ohio and I sat in this random coffee shop, sipping coffee as it poured outside--it felt like home. I'm strange I know.



But this train of thought pulled my mind back to India. It sort of feels like a dream. It sort of feels like some story that I read somewhere one time--I can remember the main points of the story, but it feels like someone else's adventure. It's getting hard to remember the squeltering heat, the intensity of accidentally chomping on a chili pepper, and the noise of 11 million people. I know it factually, but I have to be deliberate about remembering. And then it's even more difficult to remember the horror stories, the reality of the situation there. Occassionally I have a great conversation that keeps me from ignoring that truth, and I need those conversations. I can't afford to lose that year of my life to apathy. It's funny how easily apathy comes, though--how intentional one has to be in warding it off. It's amazing how easy it is to slip in a routine and live as if you don't know better. This is sadly a lesson that I have to be taught an embarrassing number of times.