I had dance parties with a toddler, got lots of hugs from brand new nieces and nephews, and felt the sand between my toes for the first time in months. I spent more than a two-hour stretch of time with my busy husband.
My soul belongs in California.
On the way home, in a van full of people, my California buzz started wearing off. The ride was taking too long. People kept wanting to stop for things. We had babies to consider and no real reason to get home quick. I was so tired from being so awesome in such a short weekend. I forgot about all the great moments. The desert seemed sucked those recent memories dry. I was dreading going home; I reminded myself to enjoy the moment. We played games and had conversations. We had a good time.
This morning I woke up early to do an overnight for work. I complained to my co-worker for a few minutes. We griped about having to work right after awesome weekends full of fun.
And then I remembered: I have been trying to be more positive and grateful lately. I decided to choose to be happy. A big percent of my day was spent listening to the laughter of entire rooms of children. It was a good day.
Why have I been on this earth for 24 years and still have a hard time finding joy in supposedly not-so-ideal situations? ...I keep practicing.
And then I heard about this. And then this. And then this? And when is the zombie apocalypse coming, again?
There are bigger things in this world than road trips and work trips and being so so so so tired. There is heartache and laughter all rolled up into one day. There is goodness and fear and dirty laundry and ice cream.
There is always laundry. There is always ice cream. And that's that.