This time last year, we were trying to figure out getting my husband around with his badly broken, just-put-together-a-few-days-ago, don’t-put-any-weight-on-it, multiple-percocet-a-day-painful leg. And we had just gotten Acorn off CPAP completely for the first time (and though we didn’t know it, a few days later, he’d be breastfeeding for the first time).
But even so, it was still fall. And while the long evenings at the hospital kept us insulated from the seasons, my drive to work didn’t.
I have a really really good job – and even on the bad days, I try to keep that in mind. I get paid lots of money to sometimes do things that make my soul sing, and sometimes do things feel like they will eat me alive. I have insurance that has paid for everything Acorn needs without question. I get to play with cool toys some days, and occasionally my bosses even recognize the really useful stuff I do.
And I have this job, this sometimes good and sometimes maddening job, in the middle of what looks like a park. Every day, if I wanted to, I could go out and walk the grounds, have lunch at a picnic table under 50 year old trees…smell the flowers in the spring and early summer….
…and see the leaves begin to change in the fall, like they are this morning. Dark clouds slipping by in the cool, crisp, dusky dawn, with a mix of dark green, gold, and barely reddish leaves.
Some days, driving to work can be a spiritual experience.
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