It’s 8 o’clock in the morning. I woke up at 7, and since that time I have boiled eggs and sliced avocados and sweet potatoes for lunches. I mixed and kneaded a batch of homemade whole grain bread. Now, I am sipping a cup of coffee and watching the sun peak through the blinds and over the tops of my basil, cilantro and rosemary plants, and I’m thinking to myself that this is perfect and peaceful and I wish every day of my life were like this one.
Unfortunately, most days look more like me wheezing myself awake around 8 or 9 o’clock, then stumbling to the kitchen and spilling various liquids all over the floor in the process of satiating my insatiable need for coffee. After that, I usually stare hatefully at my computer for about thirty minutes and procrastinate beginning my work day by drinking more coffee and literally doing nothing else (except yesterday I wasted a whole morning window shopping on the Internet, so that was something).
This morning my living room is clean and modestly decorated for fall. There’s a basket full of seasonal veggies in the kitchen window, and it’s pretty adorable. The random glass containers that I own are full of candy for Halloween, and I only have a few lamps on in the house, as there is abundant natural light streaming in. Everything is perfectly curated, and I’m pretty sure it’s magazine worthy.
Such is not always the case. Yesterday my living room floor was covered in paper turkeys, pumpkins and leaves, not to mention about 50 strands of Christmas lights. Oh, and there was that pile of unfolded laundry too. The kitchen sink was overflowing with dishes, the counters were stained with unidentifiable food spots, and I was stuffing my face with the candy in the pretty glass jars instead of cleaning the mess.
Today my hair is styled and soft. You almost can’t tell that I’ve bleached it three times and dyed it four times in the past three months. I’m wearing my cute pajamas with a purple and white floral pattern, and my toe nails are even painted to match. My face is clear of acne, and there are no bags under my eyes. I feel pretty.
I couldn’t run a brush through my hair last week, and Tanner found food in it twice. Enough said.
I tell you these things because the Internet lets me decide which picture of my life other people get to see. I don’t flatter myself by assuming that anyone pays super close attention to what I post on Facebook or Instagram or even here, but since I do put my life on display in these ways, I feel it’s only right to confess that sometimes I can’t walk across my living room floor or use my kitchen sink. And, yes, sometimes my husband has to tell me that I have bits of food in my hair.
I’m not proud to admit these things, but I’m not ashamed either. My mantra for this blog is “Write what you know.” I don’t know all that much, but I’m pretty much an expert on what happens in my own day-to-day life, and I’m pretty sure that mine isn’t so different from anyone else’s in the sense that sometimes there is dirt and clutter and sometimes there is beauty and light (both literally and metaphorically, I suppose). Mostly, I choose to focus on the pretty things—the Pinterest-worthy aspects of life. However, if you take out all the messy parts of this blog, I think it’s a much more annoying and less interesting conversation.
So, know that I am enjoying a beautiful morning, and I hope you are too. But, rest assured that I will probably burn the homemade bread that I kneaded vigorously and let rise for 5 hours today, and I hope yours burns from time-to-time too because humility and humor are the beautiful results of our imperfect lives, and our stories would be incredibly boring if everything always went according to plan.