The very best part of working on Saturday night is Sunday morning, when I leave work and head to breakfast with my dad. There is NOTHING that tastes better after a long, painful night shift than an Anita's breakfast burrito. It's a proven fact. There's science behind it. And there is no one I would rather share that perfect moment with than my papa.
Sometimes it's hard for me to forget the 20 admissions I had, the many issues I have to follow up on this coming week, and the projects I have coming down the line in the next months. My head swirls, and I make mental lists for myself. When I do put those things aside, and I allow myself to just completely be in that one singular moment, it always makes my heart swell. That's what Sunday morning breakfast is for me. It's just me, my burrito, and my papa watching the sunrise over a copper rooster, and it makes me so very very happy.
Let's talk for a moment about my bedroom. Specifically, let's talk about the fact that my bedroom currently looks like it was raided by the gestapo.
There are two, yes TWO, hampers of clean, folded clothes on my floor. Well, at least they were folded at one point. We'll call this exhibit A. Scattered around exhibit A are several casualties. Because HEAVEN FORBID I put those folded clothes away. So when I get dressed in the morning (or afternoon, as is often the case with that whole night shift nonsense) I have to tear through those folded clothes to find what I want to wear. Really, it doesn't even have to be something I want to wear. It just has to look like I didn't get dressed in the dark. (What? Plaid and polka dots TOTALLY go together!) Of course, my nicely folded clothes fly everywhere. Naturally. It's like they have wings. They're magical flying clothes! It's amazing how far they can travel.
In my closet, there is a separate pile. I this case, segregation is a really important thing. This shall be henceforth be called exhibit B. This pile is for the dirty clothes. The clothes that are dead to me until I get some time to do laundry. I swear, it will happen. Eventually. I swear. Until then, the pile grows. It currently is resembles the Trash Heap from Fraggle Rock.
This blanket of snow's a blanket of woooooooooooooe!
Sorry. Back to the case at hand...
Then, there's my book shelf. I currently can't find my bookshelf, so I can't in good conscience give it an exhibit letter. I'm pretty sure it still resides in my room, but it is buried under a large amount of mail. Unopened, opened, you know, whatevs. Look, IT HAPPENS. Also, various magazines that I haven't read, paperwork I brought home from the office with every intention of getting stuff done. I put that in italics because I think getting stuff done is a mythical thing. Like a unicorn. Or Nessie.
We'll move next to my bedside table. There are no less than three, yeah I said three, glasses of water beside my bed. You know. I get thirsty, alright? Exhibit C.
So I know what you're thinking. Why don't I get up and just clean. Put the clothes away. Do some laundry. Open some damn mail, woman! Well, because lately I have been busy. Super busy. Work, sleep, caffeinate. Rinse, repeat. That kind of busy. Well, what do I do when I'm not working, you ask. Like, you know, RIGHT NOW! During those times I sit on the couch staring blankly at the TV, trying to get my eyes to focus. Orrrrr I'm out. Out with family, out with friends, out of the state. Just out.
But here's the thing. My room may look like a war torn nation. I might not have the time, energy, or mental competence to cook a sensible dinner or bake some tasty morsels. I might not even have the energy to play tug of war with my dog. In spite of all of this, I am happy. I am content. I'm ignoring the mess, and focusing on the good. I love my family. I love my friends. I love my dog, who is totally cool with snuggling instead of playing tug of war. I looooove this fall weather, and the lovely pumpkins everywhere.
Life is good.
And I swear I have a load of laundry going RIGHT NOW. And one day my room will be spotless and organized again. One day...
Sometimes I like sweet, slightly sappy movies. This is one of them.
I've had this DVD sitting on my dresser, sad and neglected, for an embarrassing amount of time. Now, I wish I had watched it sooner. It made me swoon ever so slightly.
And sometimes movies make you think. I need to increase my gratitude, and be more accepting of the good things that come my way. Let's work on that...
Chris Ewald8:29 pm so yeah i originally designed the character to be blonde hair, blue eye and look like you and EA said you were too aryan hahahahahha
Oh, hey blogger! I have been cruel, and I have neglected you. Luckily enough, a wicked bout of strep throat and pink eye have left me marooned on couch island. I've chosen to use this unplanned free time to bring you this, oh sweet blogosphere: Stephen Powers of First and Fifteenth is taking classic street art and lettering and adding a beautiful emotional component. The result makes me swoon.
The very best part of working on Saturday night is Sunday morning, when I leave work and head to breakfast with my dad. There is NOTHING that tastes better after a long, painful night shift than an Anita's breakfast burrito. It's a proven fact. There's science behind it. And there is no one I would rather share that perfect moment with than my papa.
