Ordinary

I wake up at 8:48, decide I'm not ready to start the day, and snuggle back under the covers.

At 9:15, my hunger wins. I stumble into the kitchen for a bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats.

I settle onto the couch and scroll through the DVR list, finally choosing Hope Floats. I fast-forward to the sappy parts and tear up at scenes I've watched a dozen times.

Suddenly I feel a crappy mood coming on for no apparent reason (god, I love being a woman). Remembering my chiropractor's advice, I ice my shoulder and decide to meditate in an attempt to cleanse my aura.

Probably should have tried a sitting position, I think when I wake up two hours later, fuzzy-headed but feeling a little lighter.

Back to my spot on the couch, I indulge in an episode of My Fair Brady, Hawaiian pizza, and a glass of Pepsi. My fourteen-year-old self would have killed for a day like this, I think to myself as I down my second glass.

The wind outside is blowing so hard that it's knocking out power and setting off car alarms. Wondering what I should wear for my movie outing later, I step outside in my bare feet.

Something bright catches my eye. I look down to see the first flower of spring, a bright yellow daffodil, just outside my front door.

I smile, take a pic with my cell phone, and silently thank the Universe for granting my wish.

Turns out, when one is paying attention, there is really no such thing as an ordinary day.