That’s Why

Work wasn’t great today, and after getting home late and eating a large helping of my feelings (homemade waffle with ice cream and chocolate sauce, followed by three slabs of garlic toast), I pull myself together and take the garbage and recycling out. 

As I’m trudging up the stairs to my apartment, I find myself thinking: why do I work so hard, if not to be exceptional, and if I’m not exceptional, why am I working so damn hard?

I open the door and Katie is standing in the living room, holding the cat, while “Footloose” blasts from the speaker. 

The three of us proceed to have an impromptu dance party to the dulcet tones of Kenny Loggins and company, and I instantly feel better.