Nothing Special

Sometimes I have such good days doing absolutely nothing. I often think of Mary Tyler Moore on these days because, you know... "who can take a nothing day and make it all seem worthwhile?"

This morning I got to sleep in three whole hours late. It was already warm and sunny (read: above 40 degrees) and before even getting out of bed, I decided which flip flops I'd be wearing today.

I went for a five mile run that felt like two and felt great the entire time. This might have had something to do with the iPod's odd decision to get stuck in the early 90's and only play Pearl Jam, Nirvana and Toad the Wet Sprocket. I know. So my 26 year-old brain started to drift back to my 13ish year-old brain and I think after the third or fourth song, it convinced my body it was thirteen again, too. Which explains the youthful energy and the way I got all flustered when I passed the boys on the running path. Oh no, I forgot, that's been happening since I was thirteen.

I actually got to run errands like a normal person, too. I wasn't some crazy girl running all around downtown trying to fit everything into a lunch hour. It was calm and timed and relaxed. And there were no lines at the bank or the post office; I just breezed in and out. And really, who ever gets to breeze anywhere anymore?

I had a late lunch with a friend and caught up on work, boys and sports bras without having to inhale food as if it was going to be my last meal. On the way back from lunch I took a detour and went by the park. I sat on a bench and read the newspaper for almost an hour, just because I could.

I'm glad to know that even in the chaos of an average life, I haven't forgotten how to revel in the normalcy of it all. Taking time to enjoy days like this reminds me of what's important. It reminds me of what's real.

And then I came home and cleaned dog puke off the carpet. Reality is so refreshing.