Monday

Today was one of those days that just felt like a Monday.

I didn't get enough sleep last night - mom and dad were up late packing (they left this morning to spend the next three weeks working in Ukraine). Add to that the noise from the street coming through my open window, and the ambient noise from the fan in my bedroom that I'm not yet used to, and sleep was limited and slow in coming.

It seems nearly everyone at work was feeling the same way. While my coworkers are not always the most congenial bunch, everyone seemed more out of sorts than normal today, and it was showing. Cranky conversations. Petty bickering. Childish gossip. These were staples in some of the offices surrounding my desk today. And me? I stuck nearly 1500 return address labels onto envelopes today, continued what is a most frustrating and difficult quest to locate a paper folding machine from a company in Canada rather than the US (for warranty reasons), and ate a horrifically bad imitation of a quesadilla for lunch.

However, thanks to having a car at my disposal for the next three weeks, as soon as I'd arrived home from work long enough to feed the dog and let him outside for a few minutes, I took off again, grocery shopping for the coming week or so. I bought some lunch staples, and a bunch of fresh fruit, and I'm quite looking forward to indulging myself for lunches the next couple of days.

I came home from the grocery store and sat on the patio while I barbequed chicken breasts for lunches this week. It was that windy, early summer storm on the way kind of weather. Warm, but with just a touch of wildness. I read a novel and ate fresh cherries and carrots. So good.

I wonder sometimes if other people derive such simple pleasures. A friend talked about eating cherries on the weekend, and it triggered a desire in me. I went to the grocery store, and less than an hour later found myself sitting on a patio with a bowlful of cherries and carrots, preparing food for future meals that I'm also looking forward to. It still seems funny to me, how the little things can make my day. All those years of depression where nothing was really enjoyed, and now, a stolen bite of chicken, a ripe cherry - spitting the pit into the grassy lawn, a good novel, sunlight warming my neck and wind whipping through my hair, a hot bath, a surprise drop by visit from an old friend, mozzarella cheese, a comfortable chair, and a good novel - all of these things bring me great joy and satisfaction.

I think that might be a good thing.

The last week or two have been filled with angst. I've mulled and wrestled. Been tormented and tormented myself. Asked questions that had been answered and answered questions that hadn't been asked. I'll tell you about it sometime this week. But for tonight? I'm heading for bed, with my novel in tow, and thinking about snagging another cherry or two on my way!