Last week…

Last week, I had this day where I got to the end of more tasks than usual with fewer interruptions than I would usually encounter on an average day.

This is mostly because I’m being commandeered by a 3 year old who naturally wants company while doing

Every.

Little.

Thing.

In those moments where she’s preoccupied for more than 20 minutes because she’s drawing on the windows or admiring her own reflection, or applying lipstick to something that doesn’t need lipstick (of course I don’t know these things until I realize it’s too quiet to be true), I sneak away and scribble into my notebook. Or read three paragraphs of whatever book I’ve been trying to finish for the last few months, or finish making my forgotten coffee, or listen to (part of) a webinar, etc, etc, etc.

There are more than enough things I want to do alone and in peace, so when these rare moments decide to cluster themselves into one day, I hop onto the high of getting so much done with zero hesitation.

It’s probably one of the few things I do without as much guilt, because it feels so good from the inside out, and the good feelings are so fleeting in the recent past.

Some of that’s mostly my fault, because I choose not to dwell in the prettier gardens of goodness. Even while in full bloom, I’m interested in planting more flowers and I forget to take in the beauty that first gave life to an idea that birthed a stiller desire.

One that simply wanted to plant some seeds and see what happens.