I woke up shortly after the last bartender in town locked up, long before dawn. When I should have been still konked out with my blankey. But I heard my husband rustling around in the dark, headed for what is bound to be another long end of quarter sorta day.
He is a good man.
Me? The jury's still out, but I've faced down one nemesis this morning - the incredible, edible egg! Ha!* - and I have pumpkin muffins in the oven for the ones that used to be wee, back when I started blogging and I wrote about them a little too much. But they still like me.
They are good children.
I woke up thinking about this post and how I've been writing it in my head since Monday. The wind was picking up that afternoon, kicking a few leaves around my feet as I walked to the bus stop to meet my son. I read Zazen as I walked, splashing Earl Grey onto my dance pants until I came to the end of the road where I may or may not have practiced the tree pose for next week's class. (I totally did.) I had to laugh at myself, behaving like a run-of-the mill loony on Suburban street, but my days are like that right now. I am moving, racing, loving every minute.
I live a good life.
But I might need a nap.
*Um, I see you people eating your eggs, all tralala, feeling offended on their behalf. The eggs started it. I blame them. My epi-pen has my back.