Home, Happy, Whole

Home home home. I am home. Today....was really hard. It's been a day that has been filled with adversity. Yesterday was similar, but today, the cracks in my shell are starting to show. The gooey inside is starting to spill out. Bubbling, and boiling to the edge of the pot, my innards tremble. There is no peace in my heart..Until now....

Now that I am home. Safe. Happy, whole. This is where I belong. This is where I am happy, on most days. It's my cocoon where I cannot be touched. It's where it's warm inside and the smell of apple pies in the oven, or sauteed garlic for my sauce greet my senses with a smiling sigh. A happy euphoric, drunken sigh. Happy to be here where I am not judged, but where I am a super-step mom, a loving happy wife, and adoring dog-owner.

Waiting in my car for the tot to get out of school, the sun shined on my face, heated up my car's exterior and melted the ice from my heart. Looking around at all the soccer mom's and mini-vans, I looked at my own car, with it's impeccably clean leather interior, just begging for a baby seat and crackers smashed into the upholstery.

We zoomed off to get gas, where I had the unwelcome experience of getting yelled at by some old guy who followed me all the way to the gas station for honking at him for exiting a parking lot and nearly hitting me..Really? I mean, really? Luckily hubby wasn't there, because what I wanted to do to this man, hubby could actually do, and probably want to do it.. Breathe...*I am not as big as I think I am.* After zooming away from yet another location, I decided that ice-cream was in order.

Jamoca Almond Fudge, and Quarterback Crunch, made their way into small cups and eventually into our eager mouths. Slowly savoring every bite with tiny spoons, we headed home. I laughed at my fury for being yelled at. But laughed even harder at the fact that I considered following this character for yelling me, and instead settling for flipping him the bird. Of course, the entire time making sure the tot NEVER does that.

And now, I am home. Away from "work", away from screaming disgruntled drivers, angry clients, frustrated graphic designers, and irritated managers. I am home where my cute boxer looks at me like I am the queen, as he stares longingly out the window from the second floor. At least I am the queen of this little office for now, where I can sit, type to the music of my choice, feel whatever it is that I want, even cry if I need to.

I will make this work. My happy home will bring me peace, a paycheck, and somehow a happy heart. My own words, opinions, and choice of direction will earn my living someday. My happy home will be my happy cove where I can express myself with words, and have the freedom to lace on my running shoes, and hit the trail in the middle of the day if I want, with absolutely no remorse. This will will someday be my reality.