Some Days Are Harder Than Others…And That Is A-OK!

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The day was off to a great start…I had an early-morning airport run, to drop my parents to catch a flight for their 2.5 weeks in (sunny and warm) FL. No traffic in either direction, I drove under a perfect sky on the way home (a deep but bright blue that brightened…a few lingering stars…rimmed with orange-y red, and wrapped with clouds that looked like peaks on the horizon), and I promptly fell back asleep upon climbing into bed.

There’s nothing like forgetting I was smart enough to make oatmeal the night before, trudging down for that first cup of coffee, and seeing the small saucepan sitting there. And this morning was one of those mornings. Not only that but I had fresh berries so I was able to mix up a heavenly bowl of black and blue oats with a drizzle of honey and a splash of almond milk. Divine!

I had a great workout. I untied one shoe and was ready to call it a day after 8 tough sets of “as many as you can.” And then the only other person left and I agreed to one more, so I felt pretty accomplished when I finished.

Then the day went South. No job. Aargh. “I hate this,” I thought. “What am I gonna do?” “What do I wanna do?” And the spiral started. I alternated fighting it and riding it. And then I did what I always do. Forced myself to the positive, and in this case it was an old FDR quote:

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And I went for a run, cranked up some happy tunes, and put the rest of it in the rearview. And happily considered the friendly reminder I had gotten to not let the legit bad stuff get in the way of the legit super-happy stuff.

The rest of the day? It was good. Maybe even great. All considered. And why? Because I fought off the blues and got myself not only where I needed to be…but where I wanted to be.

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