This is not a morose Monday in my neck of the woods.
If I had gotten up early and traveled to work and had to whip out a blogger post on my lunch hour, it could have been a traditional blah "do I have to be here?" Monday.
But I currently sit at my desk, in my new home office.
This is maybe a bit of a stretch. My office is a corner, and I am still surrounded by an unfinished remodel. Some drywall waiting for one more slap of mud, a yawning open closet packed with water heater and furnace, insulation covered in plastic in another spot, but if I focus on certain specific spots everything feels done.
Our bounced couch is cozy and turned so you'd never know it hurtled through space and hopscotched west on I-80 eastbound.
There is, of course, a spiritual application regarding focus in this post. But I think I'll let you ponder that on your own.
The most exciting thing about my little corner is that I am sitting at a lovely desk built by my talented husband, and I am hooked up to the computer that has long lain dormant.
Now I have no excuse not to write.
Oooh. I don't know how I feel about that so I'm not going to think about it right now.
I have brand spanking new DSL, a chair with rolling wheels (which is really a bad idea considering I am five feet away from the unrailingized stairwell.)
I'm choosing not to ponder the implications of the wheels on the chair. Instead I am staring out my "office" window. Skeletal trees are blanketed with two inches of snow so they look like mutant pipecleaners. The sun glints off the bright white and through the icicles dangling, dripping like melting diamonds.
I've even accomplished laundry and dishes this morning. Ahhh. A good Monday, indeed.
Hope yours is good as well.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.