i feel like dancing
I have good days, and I have bad days. My bad days have been greater lately, just with the overwhelming stress of work and exhaustion, but I digress.
I get sick of the bad days… I'm an optimist by nature. Even when things are crazy busy and everyone around has a bad attitude, I continually try to find something to smile or laugh about, just because I don't want to be dragged down. So, being stuck in the house all week with a virus and basically exhausted and flat on my back has kept me from being able to see the glass in its proverbial hall full state.
Today, I schlepped out for an early morning meeting (to me, anything before 10 a.m. is early, yeah, yeah, say what you will, I'm NOT a morning person) at 8 a.m. out in past the beltway in NoVA. From where I live, that's basically about a 35 minute drive on any given day without traffic. Thankfully, I saw last night that the National Marathon was going on this morning and found an alternate route, or my commute would've been even longer. THAT would've made me even unhappier. The meeting was 4 hours. FOUR HOURS. ON A SATURDAY. Now, given the fact that it is for an alumni association, I am more than happy to give of my time for them and help out, especially now that I'm required because I'm an officer. But, seeing as how I had a few bad days already, an 8 a.m. meeting out in Timbuktu from D.C. did not add any glimmer of hope to balancing my scales toward the happy side.
After the meeting, I once again dodged the Marathoners, secretly hoping to possibly hit one, two, maybe a spectator, or even better a tourist for some points. OK, I kid. As I'm rerouting my way home, I run into another detour… there's a protest march going on down Rock Creek Parkway toward the Pentagon (thanks WUSA for letting us know that this morning AFTER it started… you guys are 2 for 2 on this now in 12 hours). I finally get around the detour and head home, and my stomach is growling ferociously.
I decided to stop into the neighborhood deli… It's a quaint Jamaican bakery that made me the most amazing 
King Cake for Mardi Gras! 
And, they have wonderful sandwiches. So, I ordered myself a sandwich and was waiting when the two most adorable girls came in, chattering in what is most likely an Ethiopian language (one of 84… how am I supposed to know which one?). And then, they see the cakes they want in the cooler window, and start singing and dancing! I couldn't keep a frown on my face and just started giggling along with them like a little school girl.
I realized then how I've been missing my own dancing in life lately. The old adage goes:
Dance like no one is watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like no one is listening,
Live like it's heaven on earth.
I need to remind myself more often that life's moments are only here for that long, and I need to enjoy them while I can. So, I'll be cranking up my iPhone/iPod a little louder, and probably looking a little more like a fool when I walk down the street, because the sounds of my playlists will be putting a bit more rhythm into my step, and making that water glass a lot fuller. Heck, it may start overflowing.
