Perspective

So I lay down to try and sleep about 10 minutes ago, hoping that even though Mr. Man isn’t home yet, my body would win over my mind and I could sleep.  I realized that the past two Mondays I had blogged, and I thought that it was a pity that I hadn’t.  Then my mind wandered to all the things I could say, and I had some great perspective changes about my day… my week… my life… you know how that goes.  So here I am, NOT sleeping, and blogging instead.

I am so incredibly happy.  I am living a dream.  My whole life I dreamed of “growing up,” having a job I liked, a husband, and a place of my own.  (Kids are negotiable as of today.)  Our apartment is a dang mess right now.  I have forsaken my wifely self-appointed duties of laundry, dishes, and general picking up for the last few days… and we picked up and moved in a new couch and a dresser from Freecycle today (YAY!), and therefore disarray prevails.  (I didn’t even have the productive means to move the clothes from the bookshelf into the dresser!)  Normally the guilt of not doing my chores weighs on me and I feel like “a bad wife” and I get caught up in the trivial.  Excuse me?  I have my own apartment!  With dishes that CAN be dirty!  And although we’re still living off peanut butter and dry corn flakes, we have food!  And clean water!  AND I have a husband who loves me more than I understand, who is off doing something that he loves (I think he’s doing Floribbean Cuisine tonight)… we both have jobs we enjoy.  Hello, silly self, this is AWESOME!