Today I worked at job number 3 from 7:30 a.m. until 3:30 p.m. That means I got up at 6:00 (when we went to bed at 2a.m.!) and drove a total of an hour there and back…in medium traffic. I also had another ”eh” day at work. I’m still very much in the settling in phase…
When I got home, I cleaned the kitchen and folded and hung up clothes for about twenty minutes until I headed off to job number 2 from 5 to 9. While there I vacuumed for about thirty minutes, using a vacuum literally made in the 50s. (Ok, I made that up, but it’s old, and weighs about 50 pounds, so I took a wild guess.) And everyone knows how I love to vacuum, right?
…yeah…
I also answered the phone a lot.
…yeah…
And then, I came home and spent about 40 minutes on job number 1, editing a freelance assignment piece I wrote last night (before the soccer game) that needed to be sent out today.
Individually, all of this would have been pleasant. Together, as it was, it wasn’t terrible. Just a long day.
While at job number 3 (the third job I received, which is how I label them, but the first job I went to today, which makes it a bit confusing for you guys…), I wrote this note:
A little silly. A little sweet. A little sarcastic. All honest. All exactly what my heart needed to say.
I love to write love notes. I love using written words to tell someone exactly what they mean to me, and why I’m feeling especially blessed by them today. I love the way writing makes me slow down and really focus on the person and how rich they make my life.
Hubs doesn’t write a lot of love notes. He did when we were in high school. He’d scribble a message on notebook paper and leave it in my locker in between classes or after soccer practice. I still have those. All of them. Someday I’ll use them to embarrass our kids, and as proof that yes, we really were young and dumb, two crazy kids in love.
Now that I think about it, maybe that’s why Hubs doesn’t write love notes anymore.
So anyway, just because Hubs doesn’t write love notes, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t ever give me love notes.
Because when I came home from job number 2 and settled down to start job number 1 (see the note above about how the jobs are labeled if that confused you…), I was given this for dinner.
His words, "Presentation means everything." Boy, is he right!
Because when he presented this dinner to me (Macaroni, sauteed zucchini and tomatoes–don’t judge if you haven’t had it. It’s delicious, so so so so good), I felt loved. I could see that I was loved. I could taste that I was loved.
And what better kind of love note is there than that?
