Sometimes I feel bad about how I don’t lead a gripping life. There are many days when I go nowhere except to drop the kids at school. I hunker down at home to write, craft, read, cook and putter. To say it’s unimpressive would be an understatement.
Shouldn’t I be out hiking, drinking with the girls, cycling country roads and checking in about town with my iPhone? (Oh wait, I don’t have an iPhone. Scratch that.) My friends on Facebook seem to be out and about all. The. Time.
What’s wrong with me?
If it’s wrong to be content sitting at home eating a big bowl of oatmeal and taking care of household tasks, then I don’t want to be right.
Walking to the store to buy fresh ingredients for a single meal instead of meal planning a two week schedule, cuddling under a blanket to read the newest library book, rearranging my already-bought belongings for a new look, watching goofy TV with the kids, bundling up to attend a youth soccer game.
This is what I like to do.
Yes, it would be awesome to win a free family trip to Hawaii or Mexico. But even if I don’t, it turns out that I’m quite happy hanging out at home, impressing no one and patting myself on the back for both doing laundry and putting it away.
You may call it dull as dirt, but it suits me.
“Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without.”