Take a deep breath

After my freakout dream last week, and the subsequent slump I fell into later in the week, I was, according to my loving spouse, intolerable. Greeaaat. Luckily, a weekend of rehearsals and dinner with friends proved a good salve, I think. I'm still stressed out about work and life and balancing the two, but I suspect I'm back to being tolerable. Until I'm delightful again, I'll take tolerable.

So, this week, I've been trying to keep my eyes open to little blessings and inspirations. Always in the spirit of Clare. Here are some that I found that have made me smile, and feel good, in no particular order.

Honey, spotted a postcard from last week's Post Secret. It said "Nutella turns me on." He looked over at me. "Did you send this in?" I didn't. But we both know I may as well have.

Hearing The Beatles' Revolution this morning on the drive in to work. I almost changed the channel. I know this song. Frakkin' Nike used it to hawk overpriced shoes. Why hear it again for the umpteenth time on a station aimed at my parents? But I listened anyway with newer ears. It gave me a charge to keep on keepin' on ("Don't you know it's gonna be alright?"). And for some reason it seemed fitting today, the 45th anniversary of my childhood hero's seminal speech, the same day that Barack Obama, heir to that dream (though, I suppose we're all heirs), accepts his nomination as the Democratic candidate for President. My God, I'm ready for this revolution. Please let it work.

Walking to grab lunch after a morning rain, today. Seeing droplets clinging to the leaves of trees and their soggy blossoms. Feeling content in the saturated colors around me, in the soppy creation.