Some days, I just want to complain about work, and all my homework, and how my dog never listens and shreds my yarn to bits, and how on freezing cold days all I want to do is lay around like a queen and make Husband feed me chocolate and shower me with flowers.
But instead, I remember that I have so much coming up the next few months which will result in taking a bunch of days off work, so I should work as much as I can while I can, and then I learn something new and think it's fascinating while doing my homework, and then while untangling my dog from the bush in the yard for the one millionth time (which is ultra frustrating, since it seems like she just never learns that she's going to get stuck!), she licks my shoe and I think she's the cutest little pup ever.
And Husband, my dear Husband, who has so much on his own plate, stops in the doorway, turns around and rushes back over to me, even though he's running late to work, to give me a quick smooch and tell me he loves me.
Which makes me realize I have a pretty amazing life, even with all the homework and work and having a new-ish puppy and not feeling super duper special all the time. Which is when I decide to take a metaphoric chill pill and write a blog post about my life.
And life in general. Because it's weird, that thing called life. And awkward, and lame sometimes, and yet, so brilliant and wonderful and such a mess. But it's ours. Every last one of us. And it is what it is. So we should appreciate it for being just that.