Our washing machine broke this weekend so I procrastinated on a deadline.
Set the alarm Sunday night, planning for an early morning work session to compensate.
I woke up late today, my dirty jeans lay on the floor. No work session.
I wore snowflake leggings because my favorite pants are dirty too, and a little bit tight. It’s not even holiday cookie season. Not entirely cute since it’s supposed to snow tomorrow.
I went down the stairs to prepare dinner in the crockpot – stay a step ahead. Twist the cap off of the red pepper flakes, shake a dash – no- that was more like a pour. SHIT! That’s too many flakes floating in the broth.
That is going to be some spicy bbq chicken.
When making coffee at work, the grounds spilled all over the counter, drops of coffee dribbling on those white snowflakes. My signature move – spilling.
All day long I worried I was smoking out my little puppy while I worked. I imagined the house filling with red pepper fumes, sort of like mace or something.
I stuttered on the phone.
Forgot my wallet in my other bag.
Arrived late to a meeting.
Focused on too many things.
Got home. Of course, the dog was fine. Texted my mom.
“How was your day?” I asked.
She went to the dentist. Note – I need to call the dentist.
I stopped and smiled.
Yup – that spicy dinner was a fail.
And clean clothes must wait and smaller jeans may be a thing of the past.
I can see the imperfect in the world all the day long, but I don’t often like to acknowledge the imperfect beauty in me.
Today was my reminder to hug and to kiss myself. To give grace and permission to bend. To pinch my waist and say I love you too.
To make mistakes and forget and push hard against looming deadlines.
To go to sleep, only to try again.
Next time with less red pepper flakes.
Here’s to putting the perfect in imperfect.