When friends ask, “But, how are you?” – emphasis on the “you” – I do feel a little stumped.  Maybe it’s not a good sign that nothing much happens in my life.  Maybe I should have more to tell.  But really, I’m just so excited about making my bed and cleaning the sink everyday, and that’s not the kind of thing that qualifies as an answer when someone is sincerely inquiring about your well-being and happiness.

And you all know I am somewhere on the permanently blue side of the street.  And the big things I think about – home and heartbreak and how I will continue to earn a living in my “golden” years – those things aren’t exactly happening, are they?  Any report on my emotional terrain is bound to be a little morose.  But that’s not exactly what you are asking either.

So it’s true when I answer, “I’m good.  I just go to work and I spend the weekend on my flowers and make dinner.”  Even on my vacation days, I managed to do mostly the same things I do on an average Saturday.  Take a walk.  Organize a drawer.  Make the smallest purchase I can for something that might improve the house (this week it was an antenna for the TV).

I did not intentionally pursue the peace of the mundane.  But I sure am enjoying it.