Counting My Blessings

Today was a good day. It thundered. It rained; it poured. I got to work with my barista mentor and we actually got to hustle a few times, though the line was never anywhere near what it is at the old shop...yet. I bantered with an SNL comedian. I got to make lovely latte leaves and nerdy math jokes to the young professionals who walked in wearing graph-shirts. I fell asleep in mid-afternoon to the sound of thunder clapping and rain dripping down to my bathroom floor. I slipped of course, but did not fall. I got to wear my purple rain boots. I got to pay my toddler friend a visit in her carseat. The car door opened. "Elsa, look what daddy found! Who is this Elsa?" The toddler spoke my name and kicked her feet excitedly in the air. I'm honored to be part of her relatively vast, yet limited vocabulary. I got to go to a Friday afternoon ballet class and have a real talk with my ballet mentor. Half-price sandwiches and a funny book at Capogiro's. And still the rain comes down hard, pelting and rushing. I get to be inside on a night like this. The scar on my right eyelid is healing nicely; I no longer look like a character out of Starship Enterprise, or whatever that show was called. I was never a tried-and-true trekky.