Cory LaViska

I keep having this dream. I'm walking in a field. It's really late, or maybe really early. I feel safe…I think. I don't know where I am.

The air is cold. The grass is wet, like an early morning dew has settled on it. My shoes are damp from it. I'm walking, but I don't know to where.

Exactly nineteen months ago we were in this same hospital, eagerly waiting to meet your sister. Today, it's your turn.

In a matter of hours you'll be in my arms. I can't wait to see your face for the first time. To hold your hand. To see your eyes.

I didn't think this would happen for at least a few more years, but a couple days ago our nine month old ordered her first lightning deal from Amazon using an unlocked iPhone (whoops).

Behold, all the laundry baskets we'll ever need.

If you ask me what I want out of life, you'll get a simple answer. But getting there has been anything but simple. I work my ass off, but there's always more to do. I try to save money, but there are always more bills to pay. I try to be the best husband and father I can be, but there's never enough time.

At some point, the world started spinning too fast. I used to be the guy who had his shit together. Now I feel lost, wandering around in the fog of my own thoughts completely directionless. I've never felt so lonely — so helpless.

I came up with this years ago in my head. I used to type it as dummy text when I was trying out a keyboard or just needed to type something—kinda like Lorem Ipsum.

I have no idea why it stayed stuck in my head for all this time, but it's earned its place here because of it: