There is nothing like a good night's sleep to clear one's mind. Of course once one's mind is cleared, one tends to realize the horrible mistake that one has made.

Slowly opening my eyes, I willed the previous night's experience to go away. Blinking a few times just to make sure, I realized that I really was in the room that I had been in last night. It was at this point that I realized I had a choice: The choice being to either be happy with the circumstances I was in or to be upset. I was the one who could make or break this. Realizing that most likely God had put me in this position for a reason, I opted for the first choice. I was going to be happy.

But first, I had to use the restroom.

Getting out of bed, I slowly crept across the soft, plush carpet toward the bathroom. The tile on my feet was quite cool and sent a chill down my body. Doing what was necessary, I crept back to my room, hoping to be quiet so as not to wake any body.

Changing my clothes quickly, I made the bed and packed up my things to go downstairs. Taking one last look around to make sure I had everything, I slung my back pack over my shoulders. Running my tongue across my teeth, I realized that I had yet to brush them. Shifting my bag to the side, I dug around for a toothbrush and toothpaste. Still attempting to be quiet, I walked across the hall again to brush my teeth. Once finished, I made my way downstairs, amazingly without getting lost.

As I found the kitchen downstairs, I realized that my endeavor to be quiet was ultimately pointless seeing as how everyone was up.

"What time is it?" I asked to no one in particular.

Stephanie, who was the first to notice my interest, jumped up from her place at the kitchen table and ran to give me a hug.

Nancy turned and with an endearing grin said, "Good morning sleepy head. It's nearly 9:30. You slept quite hard, but then you probably needed it."

I blushed as I realized that I had slept in even though I had been in a strange house.

David piped up from behind his coffee mug that was half way between his lips and the table. "No worries. I called work and explained the situation. We had a meeting this morning, so it wasn't a big deal."

Again, I had a choice. Did I tell him I knew where he worked? Did I keep silent as I had the night before? Sighing and sending up a quick prayer, I sat slowly down at the table. Wyatt, who wanted attention, teetered toward me in his toddler waddle. Thankful for the distraction, I picked him up and held him trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say.

David must have realized my agony because he gave me his trademark one eyebrow up look.

Sighing again, I told all. I left out no details. I explained in detail the awful things my abusive father had done to me and that my mom had just wanted to get away. I described the poverty that we had to go through. I told him that all I wanted to do was to make life good for my mom and I. I told him about my step-dad who married my mom and who had taken away the ability for me to make life good for us. I indulged details that no one had ever been privy to before. And then I told him my plan: Operation JAG Screenwriter, as I had dubbed the night before I left for California, now six days ago. The plan, of course, included the slight obsession I had with JAG and the fact that my passion was writing, specifically screenwriting for the TV show that he happened to be an actor on. Shrugging slightly at the end of my tirade, I mumbled a soft, "Go figure..."

And then I waited for the response...