and I feel fine

I don't often feel like I have time to do the things that make me feel better.
Like getting a handle on the laundry, for example.  Or organizing the pantry.  Or taking a bath.

I did take a walk this evening.  I do not want my body to be my project, but I do want to be healthy enough to tackle some.  I am pretty sure I might not get to much on the list for another five years, when all three boys are in school, but I'm training to be in excellent project-tackling shape by then.

Our house is under construction and if I had the opportunity to sit long enough I could likely watch the drywall dust settle on every single surface.
I try to restore order, and sanity, in small ways.  I've been organizing our bookshelves.  And I finally cleaned the van.

And I know, I KNOW, these are the best of times.  They are!
But you know how sometimes, for a split second, when everything is happening at once or when nothing is happening at all, these can feel like the raging dumpster fire of times?

The whole world is whipped and messy, leaves swirling and politics spiraling, and life seems like a depressingly chaotic approximation of some vague but perfect fantasy.
I need to feel in control of something.  My sleep is interrupted and my body does not belong to me and the boys are wild and the house is a hot mess.

We line up on the couch to read books.  Because when in doubt, that's what we do.
And so here we are at the end of another day, alive and fed, clean jammies and warm fire, plenty of books and plenty of bourbon and all the love in the world.