My Day

by Abbie

(Indeed, I am rather creative when it comes to titles. Thank you for noticing.)

So, I thought long and hard about what exactly to write this post about, since I plan to jump on the merry “Peek Into Your Day” bandwagon over at YLCF.

I thought about going through my scads of pictures and resurrecting a particularly memorable and hilarious day…but that wouldn’t exactly represent my life as it’s happening right now, would it?

Uh-uh. So what I’m going to do is tell you exactly how my Monday, October 26, happened.

Because no one can tell the story of their day quite like they can. And that is a cool thing.

Much as I hate to start things on a downer, I woke up this morning feeling quite possibly worse than when I went to bed. And that was pretty bad. I felt groggy, my neck was stiff and sore, and I wanted nothing more than to tuck myself back under my soft, warm covers and sleep for approximately 187 more hours.

I rode in to work with my sister Faye as the sun rose, golden and Autumn-y and beautiful. Strangely, our conventional morning roles were switched, and she chatted animatedly. I, on the other hand, managed a few grunts in reply as I peered into the visor mirror, swiping eyeliner over my squinty, tired eyelids.

At work, I tied on my apron, unsheathed my box opener, and determined not to plug my ears with my earbuds right away. I wanted to think and talk to God.

I thought lots of things as I sliced open boxes and hung Izod slacks. I thought about some problems, some plans, and some people.

When my lunch hour rolled around, I headed to the park behind the shopping center with my sandwich and salt and vinegar chips. I sat and savored the fall breeze, watching children on the playground.

One spry grandpa trotted with his toddler granddaughter all around the play equipment, stopping only so the two of them could snack on some chicken nuggets and chase down the wayward yellow napkin that took to the wild winds.

A power-walker stepped lively around the track that encircled the small park.

A young mom played peekaboo with her little boy, finally catching him and planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

I ate. I read. I watched.

And I smiled.

With a half hour still left, I went in to the grocery store and bought a fruit drink and some gum. Big spender, that’s what I am. In the checkout line, I heard the song “Till There Was You.”

And I smiled again. Smiled so big, in fact, that I received not a few odd looks.

Back at work, I put in my earphones and lost myself in a world of cardboard, plastic, and Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. (Which, by the way, I cannot seem to stop listening to. I think I have a disorder.)

My dad picked me up at 5:00 and I drove home. Driving Update: I almost swerved into a guy on Main Street. He honked at me. I apologized. But I’m pretty sure he didn’t hear me.

Once safely home, I snarfed down a piece of three-meat pizza, and sat down to write my To-Do list for the evening. Here’s what it looked like:

[ To Do ]

• School: History, Writing (research paper)
• Cleaning: My room, living room, kitchen
• Get out fall decorations (while watching Pride and Prejudice)
• Get stuff ready for tomorrow – lunch, library books, music books
• Write about today
• Read
• Make apple cake – never mind.
• Practice
• Send in camp application

Here’s what it looks like now:

[ To Do ]

• School: History, Writing (research paper)
• Cleaning: My room, living room, kitchen
• Get out fall decorations (while watching Pride and Prejudice)
• Get stuff ready for tomorrow – lunch, library books, music books
• Write about today
• Read
• Make apple cake – never mind.
• Practice
• Send in camp application

My parents had a meeting, Faye was still at work, so while I made like a chicken with it’s head cut off, the two youngest punks watched old movies. (I train ‘em well.) In fact, Rear Window is just wrapping up now. Jimmy Stewart is sitting, content, in his wheelchair with two broken legs while Grace Kelly lounges by the window, reading Harper’s Bazaar.

My day draws all too quickly to an end, and there are still quite a few things I still have to do. Not the least of which is acquire at least 20 hours of sleep before 6:00 am tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure that’s mathematically impossible.

This is my life, for better or for worse. And I love it.

It may not be the most exciting, entertaining or awesome day to peek into…but it’s mine. It’s another step I’ve taken in my journey toward the Lord. It’s one more day added to my ever-growing repository of “Days Lived”.

There’s some kind of ethereal beauty in realizing that no one else can tell the story of my life, one day at a time, like I can. Only I can tell the story of my life, as I see it.

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

- “Unwritten”, by Natasha Bedingfield

[click on pictures to go to original source.]

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