My real life this week involved a low key Saturday at home, nearly falling asleep upstairs, and stumbling downstairs in the dimness and stepping straight into a hairball (don't worry, a thorough foot washing took place immediately).
Real life was my husband waking me up before my 5:45 a.m. alarm going "I have bad news...." only to lead me out of bed to show me the mouse in the dog's water bowl. Thankfully, outside. The drought in Texas combined with our cozy wooden deck and the damn beautiful greenspace behind our house means that critters like to find homes near us.
Real life is finding a pet-safe pest control company but still not trusting it (because chemicals) and carefully combing through your yard for traces of poison from the bait boxes because you can never be too careful.
Real life was the idiot reversing into my still almost brand new car, coming out of his car on a busy downtown street without a shirt on, and claiming to have "forgotten" his license and insurance at home. The damage is truly negligible - I didn't even see it at first - but it's still disappointing.
Real life is snapping at your spouse because he's the closest one there, the one who always gets the pleasure of seeing you at your worst, and the one who gets the short end of the stick because all of your patience and good cheer was used up on the rest of the world - the part that didn't promise to love you and build a life with you. Anyone else feel guilty over that bit of irony?
Real life is realizing that even though your problems might be first world, they are yours. You're entitled to feel the way you want and need to feel, and just because others have bigger and more serious problems, it doesn't mean you haven't earned the right to throw yourself a little pity party. I tend to wallow and I know that misery loves company but I have to try to remember one of the only things that I've ever found useful on Pinterest is the saying "It's a bad day, not a bad life."
And I mean, I may have vomit and creatures instead of white walls and freshly picked flowers that the internet makes me think is the norm, but my life is still pretty good. My crazy, type A husband planned our upcoming Napa vacation down to the minute and I can't wait. Fall is coming. I'm going to see Taylor Swift in a few weeks. I have friends who come to work bearing treats. I have people in my life who are always there to listen (or read) if I have an amusing, frustrating, or otherwise share-able day. I have a relentlessly happy dog and a cat who shows his affection by laying on my head so I can't breathe.
Real life. It definitely isn't all bad.