I’ve decided to stay connected to reality today, to the good that is around me and in me and here for me. I wrote that line and then I noticed the tan colored La-z-boy with the broken footrest in our otherwise nearing immaculate living room. I had the thought, “That is an eyesore.” Then I had the thought, “That chair is what stands between me and contentment in my living room.” Then I had the thought, “Mike would be really upset if we got rid of it. Mike won’t let us get rid of it. Mike is what’s standing between me and contentment in my living room.” Then I got snippy with Mike about closing the toilet lids in the bathroom because that’s where the qi runs out, according to the feng shui guy who I may or may not believe.

But the point, the point for me, is that the first line of this post is the truth I want to choose, over and over again. Everything else, all the analytical brainwork and looking through crap-colored glasses and sarcasm and quick-witted self-deprecation and commentary, all that other stuff is actually what stands between me and contentment in my living room.

And the fabulous, absolutely wonderful news is that I have some power over where I plug myself in – into the joy of being able to have a home where we have a big puffy chair that my husband and son and, I’ll admit, even I, love to sit in on a regular basis, or the never-ending torment and dissatisfaction with the imperfection of life in all its many manifestations.

There is so much imperfection! And that La-z-boy is definitely a manifestation of that. Maybe I’ll call it wabi-sabi. Now with the lopsided footrest it’s almost art. And it holds some stuff too, some memories of not the best of times. Like I got it to feed baby Ax when Mike kind of but not really moved to San Diego for work that first time, and I was still recovering from that big illness and we didn’t know where we were going to live permanently and we sort of furnished the apartment we’d rented but not really.

We got that La-z-boy and a sofa and brought a few plates and silverware down from our home home and that was it and I tried to make mom friends, and have a nice time but it was pretty isolating with a baby and no clear commitment to stay or not stay. And I think that’s when cocktail hour started shifting earlier in the day too, now that I think about it. So now that I’m thinking about it I’m realizing maybe my aversion to that La-z-boy is not only aesthetic.

And it’s all just thoughts. Thoughts I can follow or not. None of that is my current reality. My current reality is freaking awesome. And this moment in particular is just fine. I’m gonna go apologize to Mike and then make some peanut butter and jelly sliders on Hawaiian rolls. It’s partytime.