For some reason I feel on top of the world today.
Damn, it feels good.
I am drinking the best piping hot large soy Africano I have had in a long time. It is heavenly. Caffeine is divine (but who am I, to tell you? You already know, really). I walked through gentle misty rain to get this liquid perk, my rain coat squeaked and squeaked along the way, and my feet didn’t get wet because I remembered to pull on my waterproof boots before I left the house. But really it was only a whispery rain, so there wasn’t too much to worry about.
Every one I passed along the way was pleased. Pleased with Friday, maybe? Pleased with Life? I ran into someone from my Old Job Life at the coffee shop and he was pleased. Pleased with his daughters, pleased with Today, pleased that his coffee was almost ready. I waited at the crosswalk for the light to change with two women who were on their mid-morning coffee break, who were dressed the same (browns and taupes and greys and riding boots) but different (one in tights for pants, one in a skirt for a skirt) and they were so very pleased it wasn’t raining very much right now. And that the quiet girl in the next cubicle didn’t seem so nervous anymore.
My parents will be here in a few hours. I am pleased that I will be eating dinner with them tonight. Drinking wine and laughing and getting updates and giving updates and being a daughter tonight. I’m a daughter every night. But you know what I mean.
And I am pleased that I am writing and writing right now, which always feels good. Except when it doesn’t feel good because I get stuck for some reason, but I am not stuck right now and it just feels good to document the million and one things that feel good. Right now.
Like coffee. And my dog stretching, slowing shaking sleep off. And lazy rain diligently rinsing the leaves of the tree by my window. And John making a beeline for work, energized and pumped up (he doesn’t even need coffee, somehow. He makes a game of dodging raindrops).
On days like this I can see, so clearly, that everything is the way it is supposed to be. Sometimes I worry that something is not right. Sometimes I worry that I am not doing something right.
But today I know the raindrops are falling the way they are supposed to and that my part in it is the way it is supposed to be. So I write it all down to make sure I have something to remind me. So that on the grey days I can look at a sunny picture from a dusty walk and let that carry me for a bit until my next best soy Africano on a morning to be pleased with.