An imposed structure upon the absense of such

C.S. Lewis wrote somewhere, maybe in Mere Christianity (how's that for good citing) on the topic of loving your enemies. One of the points he made on how we often fail in this was in our eagerness to paint our enemies as bad as they can be painted. It works itself out to be a kind of rejoicing in how bad they are. For example, were someone to tell me one of my enemies (in a very broad sense, of course, including the people I politely interact with but can't stand) who I dislike for the way they acted in one situation were also guilty of sleeping around, I may have no trouble believing it. Of course they are, I always knew I didn't like them, right? It usually seems ridiculous in the extremes, but I'm afraid I carry out the plan subtly every day. It happens to be one of my favorite forms of self justification.
An americano (that's a shot of espresso in a cup of water) is in fact much nicer than a cup of coffee at Cups (the Jackson coffee shop chain). I discovered that today because I was thinking of my former campus minister--who only ever ordered americanos--while I was deciding what to order. It was an unfortunate thing to learn, as it presents the first reasonable temptation to my getting something more expensive than the 98cent cup of coffee every time I go to study.
My classes fell into place this semester so that I basically only have class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. It gives a decisive cadence to my weeks that I like. I also very much like the word cadence because when I use it I think of writers like Eugene Peterson or Wendell Berry.
A few weeks ago I saw a rainbow and a sunset simultaneously. It was wonderful, as you can imagine. The very next night it happened again. I suppose I have used up all my allotments for that sort of experience now, and should let others in the world see rainbows and sunsets together.
Its been quite some time since I last wrote a limerick and I have no excuses. If I could I would use the excuse that I don't have internet at my house, but then I would counter my own arguement and say that people wrote limericks long before houses had internet.
I'm approaching the verge of getting to know a cello piece written by Bach. Not being a good musician I don't often get to actually meet real music. I spend more time playing around with notes and meters. I forget that the real music itself is something new altogether. I wonder what other things in life are like that.
This is the seventh of my bullet points and that is not a bad number to end on. It will be a point in your honor. I hope your day brings about a good cup of coffee--if that would be agreeable to you--and I hope you get your fair share of seeing rainbows and sunsets. Thank you for reading.