It’s not really that horrible.
It’s just that when a day begins with kids arguing in the bathroom before everyone else is awake, and that arguing continues at the breakfast table over who has to move in and who gets the outside seat, and then one of them infers that if the kids are obnoxious, the mother is too, well, it’s not a very good start to a day.
You know how it goes.
The morning is dark because we get up before nature and everyone struggles to waken when they still want to be asleep.
I look at my calendar and see a slurry of meetings, one after the other, which makes me just want to crawl into sweat pants and stay in bed.
And I’ve just come off a night where my husband came home from a very long trip and we cuddled into bed to watch our favorite new show (This Is Us) and the surprise ending, like it always does, has our jaws open wide and eyes stunned and the next morning, I am still thinking about that twist at the end as if it were a real person and I knew him well.
There are people who say their life is too busy to watch TV, but I’ll tell you the truth: TV is my guilty pleasure and there is nothing I like more than when I have a weekend half day to sit on the couch with my hair in a bun and a Law & Order marathon (or Amazon binge-fest) on straight and I do not, for even one second, feel guilty or less intelligent for doing it.
In fact, it feels great.
The stupider the show, the more enjoyable sometimes.
Today, my tenure at University of Detroit Mercy is coming to an end because I cannot teach and build a non-profit focused on teaching at the same time. One has to give way to the other, and my heart and passion wins out.
But I love teaching at this campus.
I love the tall clock tower and the kind students and the supportive staff and I simply love teaching writing to people so they can better communicate in this world.
I love it.
I simply love it.
And when you love something, you want to do it.
Except it doesn’t pay much and there is so much time that goes into grading papers and that dampens the enthusiasm just a little.
My late grandmother used to say, “You do too much.”
I’d wave her a way or roll my eyes, but she was right.
Yesterday I had the kind of day that I never get to have: I sat on the couch with my cup of coffee warm between my hands and I took time to wake up.
I made a big pot of vegetable soup and went to Costco and planned meals for the next five days.
I caught up on emails. I edited press releases. I took a shower. I got to wear Lululemon pants and shirt and sneakers because I didn’t have to be anywhere in particular.
And even communication with my ex went rather smoothly.
The sun was shining and everyone was where they needed to be.
There are days like that and days like this and others yet to arrive. It is all good in the end as we weather the rolling thunder of the way life unfolds because in the end, we have no control whatsoever on whether it’s good or it’s bad or it’s neither.
I can’t remember the last time I actually had a bad day. And this one isn’t really. It’s just had bumps in the road.
Because good and bad are relative, they’re not real.