When you drive alone for an hour or so, you get the chance to really think about things. Like really, truly think about things.
By the end of my drive this morning–my entirely reluctant drive away from Joe, yet again–I found myself in this place inside my head that I don’t regularly visit.
I found myself ruminating over the fact–over and over again–that I’ve been working so, so hard for who knows how long… and that I still barely have any good news to show for it. No recent reason to celebrate, no time to sit back and relax.
But then, of course, I had to go in to work and stop thinking and feeling entirely miserable about things…
And get licked by a puppy. And have someone go out of her way to try to make coming to work after losing Raja just a little bit easier for me. And watch as someone else reached out to a friend of hers to do me an unasked-for favor.
And to have a big, massive dog lean up against me with his head tucked into my arm and his paw in my hand for about half an hour.
And it all really knocked it into me that I was wrong this morning. I have people who love me, friends who care, an endless collection of good memories, a future career that is just right for me… a sense of absolute intention, and purpose… A lot to celebrate, even if just quietly.
So maybe I still have a while of working myself to exhaustion before I get any news worth throwing a party over, or jumping up and down and squealing like a little girl. But I’ll get there, and when I do, it’s going to be totally worth it.