You might like me better if we slept together

Sometimes it just works.  It could be the lavender oil your lovely stepmother gave you to spritz on your pillow to solve your insomnia or perhaps its just the random life roller coaster careening through the valley and beginning the quick ascent to a new peak.  Either way I woke this morning feeling a buzz.  Yes I facebooked it.  Sure I tweeted it.  And now, because basically I am social media whore, I am blogging about it.

The thing is, maybe this wasn’t so random.  Maybe somewhere inside my now lavender scented head there was a choice that today was going to be different then the previous day(s).  Maybe I thought fuck that noise, this milquetoast woe is me crud is pretty boring.

The waking in the dark to a quiet house can be a welcome and comforting respite to the consistent hum and clang and chatter of most of my hours.  The shower can be warm and welcoming. The shaving of my face a peeling back a layer.  The ironing of the shirt the opportunity to look snazzy and finally the packing of Hud’s well balanced snack the assurance that I am doing the little things that help my son’s day be that much healthier.

These are not just mundane chores of the daily worker.  These are the individual pieces of the Jason puzzle the give me the wholeness to begin my day in earnest.  To sharply kick my ass into an acceptable arduous gear.  To make me aware of the pitfalls, the random and regular eddys of depression and the so often battles against banality.

The subway can be occasionally smiley.  The underground path to my building can be appreciated for keeping me dry from the morning drizzle.  The elevator ride can be more than a blank stare at the elevator news, it can be a silly “it wasn’t me” comment to the fellow rider.  The mandatory morning event does not have to be enveloped by the juicy prick of useless anxiety, it can be an opportunity to provide counsel, suggestions of strategy, to eventual thankful participation.

The daily tasks can be attacked instead of sighed about.  The regular surprises are welcomed because you just battled banality minutes (and paragraphs) ago.  And finally the pressure of success that has haunted your waking days and sleepless nights can be answered by one simple e-mail request during a meeting where your poignancy shined and your input was head noddingly welcomed.

And now, as Fred slides down the dinosaur’s tail, there is now time to reflect, to raise one glass and turn into two.

But not three, because two boys are waiting for their suddenly elated dad to get home and hug them.