Haz lo que gustes.

The last couple days, I've seen people left and right recording things in their journals.




So I will take that as a sign that it's time for an update.




I don't know if this is something everyone experiences all the time, or if it's a pleasure special to my life - but yesterday was one of those days where there were absolutely ZERO complaints. Zero. Nothing. I hung out with Robert, whilst he supervised my bookshelf assembling. (Much thanks to him, or else I'd end up with something crazy looking.) Shortly after, I went to work.

And at work, it was...a slow day. Uncommonly slow. I met Tim Hightower from The Cards. And then we got free NiMarco's pizza! While driving home in Pimp Juice, the brakes didn't give and the airbag didn't deploy...so I'm taking all that as a plus! Robert came over to join me in my workout. And then I decided...hey....what's wrong with a late-night dip in the hot tub?...with all your clothes on. Warm and inviting at first, cold and drippy in the end. Damn you, hot tub.

He and I headed back to the apartment where I could change. Poor Les had to deal with all the noise I was probably making - shoving open the closet door while cursing the wind, the sound of completely soaked clothes being thrown in the hamper...but I think she slept through most of it, like a champ. She's awesome. Robert and I decided the night wasn't over - he was a man with a plan.

The plan? Saran wrap Elliot's car, of course.

The other people at Fourth Ward (read: my apartment) decided to join in on the late-night shenanigans. While opening the door, the cat got out for the fifty billionth time. I am beginning to think that maybe it's not just curious. I'm beginning to think that every time we open the front door, Lucio sees it as a way to finally escape. He ran up stairs, crossed a corner, and went straight into someone else's apartment.

Great.

So I'm still moist from the late-night hot tubbing, and my wrist is starting to hurt a lot. And I'm running after this cat. Once it enters the strange apartment, I stop. I hear a dryer, but it's almost nearly dark in the living room area. Nothing is moving except that damn cat. I slowly edge in, saying, "Uh...my cat ran into your apartment?..." No one answers. Well, everyone must be asleep. So I just walk right in the middle of a strange person's living room to grab Lucio.

But wait. Why would everyone be asleep with the door wide open?


Immediately to my right there is a bare mattress on the floor with a fully-clothed young man who appears to be passed the hell out. Oh....kay....?

I make a mad dash for the cat and then yell, "Run, Robert!" As soon as I turn the corner back to the apartment, Lucio scratches me and I drop him. We pick him up again and get him inside the apartment. Then we pile into Robert's car and finish the night off right - by throwing toilet paper all over someone's car and then covering it in plastic wrap. I didn't even notice how much my wrist was swelling at the time, possibly due to a rush of endorphins - from working out, hot tubbing, running while holding a cat, or...*gasp*


Actually having fun.


Instead of sleeping I climbed into bed and replayed the entire day in my head. I thought of something I read earlier that night, I think it was someone's facebook status. It was about the one you love, loving another. I thought of my last ex, and how he is now loving someone else. And then I thought of how badly he treated me. It made me angry as hell, the way he mistreated me - I never deserved that. Usually that would make me bitter. Or sad. It's always sad when someone unapologetically and completely intentionally does something hurtful. And for a second, I almost gave into that self-pity. But then I thought - would I honestly trade anything from tonight for all the nights he yelled at me, while punching walls, and made me feel like crap? Would I trade any part of today for all the days he spent being dishonest to me? Would I trade any of these good people around me now for him - the person who hardly ever treated me with respect? No. I really wouldn't.

I'm really living my life, in this moment, and it's beautiful. That is something to be thankful for. I have good roomies, good friends, a job I love, and a very swollen wrist. My life is great, contrary to what my memories would like to have me believe. And that's the funny thing about memories and relationships. These are all intangible things that you carry around in your head with you. It's not your life as it's happening now. That's what you (and I!) should pay attention to. It reminds me of a fable or something I once read, about a king trying to find the best time to do something, and who would be the best person, and what it is he should do. The lesson of that whole story was that the most important thing to do is what you're doing right now. The most important time is NOW. And the most important person to do it with is whoever you are presently with.

So right now, the most important thing is blogging. And it's important that I do it now. And the most important and enjoyable person to do it with is...myself. Wow. What can I say? I'm pretty damn awesome.







Tomorrow I have a lesson with the Sister Missionaries. I'm thinking it will be good.