A Happy Morning

Today I woke up happier. This is good news. And lots of wonderful things have happened in the fifty minutes that I’ve been awake. First, I found that my hair had dried into big, workable waves, meaning I didn’t have to fight with the heat of the flat iron this morning. Then I threw on a sundress with gold sandals, my pearls from China (and Ryan), another long gold necklace, and I called it an outfit. (Usually I go through about three before I’m satisfied.) As I was leaving, I found this napkin, which was tucked away safely in my purse:

I took it from a bar in Wilmington – I probably used it to wipe the cheesecake off my face – which I sat and ate all by myself. (Cheesecake is not ice cream, so I am allowed to eat it.) But still. How fitting. It made me laugh as I was guiltily indulging in my delicious cheesecake, sitting alone at a bar, probably around 10pm, while my friends danced and laughed and celebrated. The napkin was a good find – I had another giggle this morning as I scanned it using our work copying machine. Guilty.

And then I opened my email, where I found the sweetest note, beginning with: “Hi my little Tessa Bug” sent from my friend Kellie in Richmond. Since we are honest around here, I must tell you that I am not good at keeping in touch. No sir. I have friends scattered all over the United States – many of which I haven’t spoken to in months – but oh, how I love them all so. Each and every one of them. And I miss them. And I think of them often. My new mommy friends, my friends who bravely packed up all of their belongings and landed on the west coast, my friends who are still in my hometown of Virginia Beach, my friends who are pursuing their master’s degrees and second bachelor degrees, my friends here, my friends there – I wish you all well. Kellie is a fantastic friend. We even share a birthday (a year and a week apart), but I like to think of us as sharing one. And as everyone knows, I don’t share – so, Kellie, I think this means I must love you a lot. How could I not love her with the kind words of wisdom that she – my older birthday sharer – sprinkled upon me at the end of her letter: “Also, I hope you know once you turn 25 it is completely unacceptable to wear your underwear inside out.” I'll just leave it at that.

Please watch this video of my nephew’s laughter (and hiccups). How could you not have a happy morning once you see this?