The Victory Was Getting Out Of The Door
In my mind the goal was clear. Leave the house by 9:15 and be at dance class by 9:50. Be stretched and moving by 10:00. Nice plan. Execution, not so much. I didn’t leave the house until 9:40 a.m. Light Sunday morning traffic got me to the dance facility at about 5 of. Parking in a residential neighborhood on Sunday morning with a bunch of churches had me circling for 20 minutes.
My achy ankles demanded respect for their input. I could dance at home. It would be a challenge to reconnect after an absence of a couple of months. Yada, Yah dah, yah, yah, dah, dah, nah.
So I am at breakfast. A hot chocolate, a warmed cinnamon roll and my favorite generous portion of quiche, also warm are happily spread out before me. As much as I love my dance community, this beautifully clear, sunny Sunday morning deserves its own version of savoring. Its been a tough week on so many levels that a mellow Sunday feels like a much needed hot bath. A little one is laughing at a cartoon. Couples chat. Someone else is working on her computer. Someone has won the daily trivia contest. I knew the answer but I’ve won enough times to be embarassed about taking a free hot drink.
The debate is on: finish eating, go back home and nap v. go shopping and then go home and nap.
Like I said, an easy Sunday morning, sunny and warm, mild and slow. Even alone works, at least today.