I had one of those moments in the car this morning. A moment when my heart got lighter and a smile formed without me having to put in any effort at all. I realized I am happy.
I am happy despite being a single mom – or maybe because of that. I’m happy even though I have no disposable income. Seriously, every penny must be accounted for. I’m working a job that I find uninteresting and quite frankly, I have zero idea about what my company does. But, whatevs.
On my drive this morning, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw the love of my life, eyes bright, mouth full of fresh blueberries, no pants on, and a feeling came over me. It wasn’t a jolt either, it was a gentle realization that I love my life. Even though I realized that I never changed out of my flip flops before leaving for work, even though I picked up a piece of poop with my bare hands thinking it was a dropped blueberry, even though I had to scrub my toilet this morning because someone – not me – peed in there the evening before and never flushed it (it really wasn’t me, it was a ‘guest’ who thinks that’s acceptable behavior and who also thinks it’s acceptable to park in my parking spot – the one closest to my house – and then give me a hard time about it when I ask him to stop doing that).
I’m happy despite being 15 pounds overweight and so out of shape that I thought I was going to throw up on the treadmill last evening, despite fighting with Monster about going to sleep for more than an hour and then not having any alcohol in the house to chug after he finally did fall asleep.
I'm happy knowing that life can certainly turn out to be a wonderful thing in spite of my best efforts to f*&@ it up.
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