Saturday, June 21, 2008
You wake up and are done sleeping. Your son is done eating a half hour before you need to go--enough time to still get ready, but close enough that you'll be able to enjoy brunch without worrying about when he'll need to eat.
You go for a walk with some of your absolutely favoritest people in the world.
The walk is not too long, not too short. There's no need to walk fast. A perfect place appears to stop for cold drinks, and you do. And then you go home.
You get stuff done, stuff that has been itching at you like a mosquito bite under a bra strap. Your kitchen is clean. Your bed is made. You know where to find your camera charger.
The other things that induce stress are distant enough that they are worries for another day. Not today.
You make a dinner that is tasty, and you don't have to do the dishes. There are even leftovers for lunch tomorrow.
The wine you enjoy as the day ends just matches the sunset. Your legs are the good tired that says, I used them but doesn't say, We quit.
Some days are just perfect.