The Anatomy of a Good Day

Last week, I wrote about depression. I’m treading water right now, and before you say, “Oh no!”, know that treading is good. Treading is active. I won’t lie. Announcing the book deal buoyed me through the week and I’m grateful for that high, and for everyone’s congratulations and their excitement to read balletbook.

Today was a good day, without any external adrenaline kick.

CityHallStatue

I got up early and took a train to a house where I’m petsitting. I fed the cats, and then literally ran back for the train. I took the train back downtown, and walked to Rittenhouse Square where I meandered through the farmer’s market, checked B&N for a friend’s book, and then hopped on the bus home.

I dropped off the farmers’ market goods (homemade root beer from an Amish farmer, a gift for my father, frozen soups for days when I’m too lazy to make a balanced meal thing happen), grabbed my computer, and walked to a local cafe where I met a writer friend.

SaturdayAMWritingatBreezys

We caught up for a few minutes, and then wrote together for almost four hours. I wrote 2k on Serenade2 aka the sequel (!!!) and then went home for a little bit. I cleaned my house, and then found a dinosaur costume for one of my cats. I dressed him up.

DinoPi

And then for an hour, I just sat on the floor with all my cats, giving them treats, taking adorable photos of them, and giving them attention that they needed after I’ve been petsitting overnight for almost the whole month.

A good day doesn’t have to be flashy. And a good day doesn’t have to be full of high moments. It just has to be a good day.

 

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