7 am: wake up. wake l'il Red up. Make her breakfast. Pack her lunch. Pack her backpack. Make sure she brushes her teeth and hair (really make sure, that conniving little snit). Wave goodbye as she gets on the bus. Deliberate whether to go back to sleep or actually do something today. Look at my puffy eyes and disheveled hair in the mirror over a bowl of shredded wheat and decide that life could be much, much worse.
This has been my daily morning routine for more than a year now. Autopilot most mornings. Thinking too much about it hurts, but I go through the motions anyway. There's a whole 'nother person that depends on me to get her day started, after all.
These days, however, it's the anchor of my existence.
I don't know whether I'll have a job next week, where I'll be living next month, or have the slightest clue what my life will look like next year.
This all feeds into my greatest fear: not knowing what comes next.
Yet, I survive it every day. And every day I survive, as much as I don't want to admit it, I get just that much stronger.
There's two ways I do it: 1) by pouring cereal into a bowl every day and drowning it in milk and offering it up to someone else, reveling in the familiarity of the mundane choreography, and 2) by constantly reaching out, finding amazing people and having a blast just talking to them and reminding myself: Good Goddess, there is life out there.
All I need is to find my own moment in time.
Yes, by taking on life one day at a time, you will find small blessings everywhere. =)
Posted by: Keri | March 19, 2009 at 12:05 PM