What does happiness mean to me?
My family, a throwback playlist, deliveries, and the rest I deserve.
I’m an extroverted Aqua wife/mother/MILF who likes the hustle of life. Once the pandemic hit, I was grateful that my employment wasn’t impacted because 1) I like money and 2) there’s a good chance that I would have drinking again if I never left the house, ruining more than a year of sobriety.
Then life forced me to sit down when my uterus decided to act crazy.
So here I am. It’s been about 36 hours since my surgery and I am forcing myself to rest today. Forcing, y’all, because I cannot sit down. I truly cannot, but I must if I ever plan on running or doing yoga again. Luckily, I’m surrounded by nearly everything that makes me happy on this overcast Saturday afternoon.
- I’m grateful for my husband and kids, who took on my share of the weekend chores like the pros they are.
- I’m grateful for Billie Holiday Radio on Spotify for keeping the vibe chill in divine femininity.
- I’m grateful to my mom sending me a shipment of cute undergarments from Victoria’s Secret, as well as two my fave local haunts Kae’s Apothecary and Prairie Lights Bookstore (#shoplocal) for dropping off CBD, candles, and books for a bed-bound gal.
- I’m grateful for rest. Scratch that: I’m grateful every time I remember that I deserve rest. I forget it so often that when the thought even occurs to me that I deserve to rest, to be still, I get thankful.
Thanks for reading my word vomit these past three weeks, even though I missed a few days.
I’m going to try to finish out these last nine days without skipping.
You know, when I’m not resting. Heh.
Okay, more tomorrow.