Day Four: A picture of your night.
I couldn't think of one picture of my nights. They seem to be made up of a million things. Last night I went to an appointment in Pensacola, came home and straightened some around the house. I washed a load of clothes and unloaded the dishwasher. The bills were screaming for attention, so I tended to those before working on taxes. There were still dozens of chores, but I abandoned them for some attention to myself and went for a long run. It was a beautiful night. The moon was shining bright, and there were stars out. As I was approaching home, I decided to stop by and visit my neighbor, JoJo. She was already in bed but not asleep. I got something to drink from her frig and hopped on the other side of the bed. We had the nicest visit. I came home and showered because I stunk to high heaven. I folded clothes and made the coffee with a sigh. It was a sure reminder that five a.m. would roll around all too quickly, and I would do it all over again.
As I walked to the bed, I looked around. In spite of everything I did, I still didn't come close to getting it all done. I have just accepted the fact that I no longer have it all together. Things were not always this way. In the past, my nights consisted of half the chores followed by curling up on the couch with the family as we watched our favorite shows. My night's picture could have been more aptly a pretty package with a big beautiful bow. The day's activities were all wrapped up. The loose ends were all tied and the loops were closed.
Now my night looks more like the splatter-paint picture. It is a mess, but it is a beautiful mess. It has character in its own crazy way and depth that the pretty package was seriously lacking.
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