And Then the Doorbell Rang . . .

I’m in a MUCH better mood today.

Not that I’ve cleaned my house.

Yes, I know I need to.  Yes, I want it to BE clean.

But the busy-ness hasn’t stopped, and my excuses work just as well when I’m smiling as when I’m frowning.

I did run the dishwasher that I filled completely but forgot to start last night when we got home at 10:30 from baseball games.

That’s something, right?

And because this is how my life works, the doorbell rang this morning.

I must not be that welcoming of a person, because it doesn’t often ring on a Friday morning.

Wait, are you under the impression that this was an unexpected ring?

Oh, well . . . it really wasn’t.  Or it shouldn’t have been.  I do vaguely recall sending a “I’ll be home until 10 tomorrow morning, so you can stop by and pick up that costume” email.

Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.  I did pseudo-pick-up the living room yesterday.

But oh, the dining room table.  The first-thing-you-see-when-you-walk-in-the-door dining room table.  The wow-it’s-actually-cleaned-off-so-it’s-the-perfect-place-to-unpack-this-package-the-FedEx-guy-just-delivered dining room table.

But thankfully, I’m laughing.  Why no angst?  It was a theatre person.  An artsy-phartsy theatre person.  A friend who is an artsy-phartsy theatre person.  One of those who let it all hang out.

And so there was no imagining what must be going through her mind.

Nope.  She just said, “Girl, I know how it is!  Don’t you hate it when someone comes over and your house is a total wreck?”

Mmm-hmmm.  And I laughed.  Because I think I’d rather have someone say it out loud than just think it in their head.

At least that’s how I feel today.