Do you ever have one of those days where you find out they don't need you to work at J. Crew and then you get in a really good workout? And on the way back you see your brake light is on and you call your trusty mechanic and say, "Gus, it's Carrie! My brake light is on and [I have no idea what that means which makes me think my car is seconds away from blowing up] are you free to look at it right now?" (Dad, are you reading this?) And so you drive to the mechanic and he checks everything out in 5 minutes flat and not only tells you everything looks good but also gives you peace of mind about the whole, unfamiliar thing?
And then you realize you're in the same neighborhood as the Aveda Institute, so you call and ask if they have any available appointments for the morning, and of course they do, and you have just enough time to check out a new bagel place right across the street. And then wouldn't you know that you find the PERFECT hair stylist who "gets it" and knows your hair and how you like it and gives you a cut that is for everyday life, not something you have to spend 5 hours in the morning fixing. Because, let's face it, I've never been one to spend hours on my hair. So you walk out after a heavenly oil head massage, cut, and blowout and the sun is shining. Drive over to work and wouldn't you know that the kids come home and get started on their homework right away. You make homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and then assist in the spearing of a cardboard box, the driving to & from tennis practice and hollering at the kids playing deep in the woods to remind them of responsibility. You put on 3 itchy feather boas, a feather hat, carry the world's tiniest purse and pretend that you're a princess with THE actual princess of the house... and then somehow you make an amazing broccoli & gruyere quiche (Al, I'll have to give you the recipe) that is brown and golden, and of course the kids won't even eat because they're suddenly allergic to all things green. You break up a fight between the older boys and suddenly you're aware of how weak you are (boys are strong when they're mad). You drive away, call your sister and chat of wonderful things like Funfetti cupcakes.
Then you have to stop at a gas station in a bad part of town, get a peach Snapple, leave and then find a big black guy walking towards you. Your "New York" suddenly comes out as he walks over really drunk and all you can understand is that he needs change for dinner. (Now, this might sound crazy, but it has been since NYC that I've been asked by a homeless guy for change, and in NYC would I rarely give anyone change... but I was so happy to be reminded of New York in this way, and to hopefully help him, that I reached for my wallet and gave him all the change I had. I told him to really get dinner and to stay out of trouble. As I drove off, I saw him peeing on the wall of the gas station. I'm so glad he listened to me.)
Then you head to life group to find fresh chocolate chip cookies, good fellowship and a wonderful group of new friends. There was also the inevitable and important mid-February conversation about how we're all tired of wearing coats, sweaters and closed-toe shoes. Afterwards you get a little lost and wind up going through Uptown's big lights, drive on home and walk in your room to smell these:
Ahhh... it's just the little things.