It is Wednesday but should be Friday.
I have a friend, she is SO organized and uses almost all of her free time in valuable ways, and rarely ever procrastinates. Yes... I am talking about YOU big AL! This is something I have admired about her since highschool, something I try to emulate but never seemed to be able to get a handle on.
But when you practice these things, it makes for a much happier day.
That is what I did last night. As soon as I got home from work, which is usually the time I like to sit on the couch and watch t.v. to unwind, or go take a nap. But yesterday, instead, I mopped the floor. And cleaned and straightened the apartment, and went through some stacks of paper, and made dinner, I even baked a cake.
And I went to bed with a smile on my face. And Dave was impressed.
Yeah, now if only I can keep this up.
THAT is where the true struggle lies.
You know, good sisters are hard to come by. But I have three of them. One who happens to be my best friend.
Yesterday I went to my best friends (sisters) house on my lunch hour. She made me a chicken pot pie. How sweet is that. I love chicken pot pies. I ate all of mine and part of hers. And then I laid down on her bed for awhile while she took a shower and stared at the wall opposite me where there are pictures of us. A black and white picture taken by the photograper, of us, cheek to cheek, smiling with the happiness of new weddings.
The ones above it, a shot of her and I in a hotel room in Toronto on New Years, I think Dave was behind that camera, Jeremy looking on somewhere...
Another of us in the living room that same year at Christmas... the holiday glow reflected in our faces.
And I couldn't help but think that sisters are the best kind of best friend you could ever have. Because you share so much, more than blood. Childhood memories and popsicles and hot sunny days where you swam in the kiddie pool in the backyard in your underwear. Boyfriends and heartbreaks and grounding and sneaking treats out of the kitchen while your mom's back is turned. Playing hang-man in church and real estate agents (yes, we didn't play house...) in the basement. One begging to play Barbies and the other begging to play a board game. Building forts in the backyard. Gorps. Delivering papers. Sunday dinners in a stuffy little house/apartment while you sit and glare at your grandpa for being so mean to your grandma and would love to take the strap to him, just as he has with your little hand a few times. Sneaking out of Sunday school to go to the little bridge over the creek and touch the soft, velvet brown cattails. Forts in the basement with blankets that became more elaborate by the hour and were inhabited for days. Dress up in grandma's gaudy "Las Vegas" dresses. Hide and go seek in the dark. Fighting over turning the light out at night while sharing a room. Fighting over everything under the sun... mostly taking each others things without asking.
Those were the days.
But I am so happy to be where we are now...
Where we aren't selfish with our time, money or clothes and especially not our secrets. Where one of the most important things to each of us is that the other is happy.
Love you Katie-did,