Getting it Where I Can

This morning I’m sitting at the dealership waiting for my vehicle service. Cheesy poppy county music is blaring over the speaker system while football plays to the waiting area. I’m in to neither one. I brought a small stitching project I began last January, meant as a gift for a loved one. I feel hung over from the week’s carb overload, and the sun at my back warms me into a sleepy, relaxed place. 

I‘m feeling mildly content. I hadn’t realized how “on” I‘ve been as of late. For the moment I don’t care if it takes awhile.