Last night I contemplated what my life would look like on December 29, 2010.
This particular thought crossed my mind because if you asked me on December 29, 2008 what I would be doing in one year, I certainly would NOT have told you that I would be living in Florida.
I would have been amused if you suggested that I would be waiting for part of my family to return from a bowl game in Orlando ~ Orlando, which is in driving distance of our home.
I fell asleep before they returned. My husband proceeded to screw with me with me because I was talking in my sleep when he came to bed.
The conversation, according to Chris:
Chris: Hey, will you move over.
Chris: Just a little.
Mary: I want to get out of the car.
Chris: The car?
Mary: Yeah, the car.
Chris: Where are you going.
Chris: Where are you going in the car, Mary? Where are we stopping at?
Mary: Whatever, Chris. You're being weird. I have to go to the bathroom.
I exited from the room and disappeared into the bathroom.
"You were gone a really long time," Chris said. "Like, a freakishly long time. Like you were having a hard time trying to figure things out in there," he said hoarsely.
He had all but lost his voice at the Champs Bowl last night, where his beloved Wisconsin Badgers won the some sort of title.
No, I certainly would not have offered up that scenario if you would have asked me where I would be one year ago.
Even though my sleep was disrupted, I woke up perky this morning.
I continued with the mounds and mounds of laundry I began last night. I opened up all of the blinds to let the Florida sunshine in.
Although I was a little peaked, I felt like doing something.
"I feel like not sitting at home today," I said to Chris. "I feel like doing something."
"Just give me an hour," Chris said as he played with his IPhone. I could hear drum beats, the Wisconsin fight song, cheering and obnoxiousness. I gathered that he recorded all kinds of stuff on that phone last night, and that his little Facebook world would soon be enlightened.
"After one hour, we can do whatever you want," he said, earnestly.
"You want to go to Tampa? We'll go to Tampa. You want to go to Miami," he continued. "We'll go to Miami. Whatever you want to do," he added, "just as long as you pay for gas."
Earlier this morning, I dumped a boatload of Calvin's clothing into a pile in his dresser-less room. I thought that picking up the dresser that my parents purchased for him at an after-Christmas sale would be a wisely super-fantastic idea.
Calvin would return home to a neat, organized room. I suggested this to Chris.
"I don't feel like doing that today," he said.
What about the Miami and/Tampa/"whatever I wanted to do" suggestions. I inquired, and he shrugged.
Apparently "whatever I wanted to do" didn't exactly include "whatever I wanted to do." We'll have to wait for another day to retrieve the dressers.
Yet the possibilities are endless and the day stretches out in front of me.
I have my two delightful children with me (the other will join us on Saturday), my husband is on vacation this week and I still have gas money available.
The day is perfect and there are beautiful things to discover within driving distance of our home. And we have a Perkins gift certificate, compliments of my parents.
Oh, the possibilities.