Confetti in my Shoes

As a school counselor, I’m just as stoked as my students when that final school bell rings on June 10^th. A month and some odd days later I see two themes on my Twitter/Facebook/Google+ timelines today. Teachers and students mourn the end of the summer they feel is coming too soon. The parents (and spouses) I follow are counting the days until their loved ones go back to class (or work).

We all spend a lot of time counting down and looking back, don’t we?

As a student of human behavior, I compulsively read between the lines. I look for clues and messages, often where none exist. Today the message I’m getting is to enjoy the moment.

In the past twenty-four hours I took in the last of six summer concerts, all given by the same band that I’ve been in love with since I was ten years old. I ate my first chocolate chip pancake in about fifteen years at Waffle House with a woman I’m lucky enough to call one of my best friends and a new friend with whom I’m hoping to share future adventures. I drove all night to find my husband waiting up for us when we pulled into the driveway at 4:30 in the morning. Then I slept in late, ate entirely too much sushi for lunch, and vegged out on the couch for the rest of the day. Tonight I watched my husband attempt to classically condition our black lab to believe that whenever she whines at bunnies in the yard it causes thunder. I don’t think it went nearly as well as he hoped.

Today, I laughed…a lot.

There’s a lot to be stressed about right now. My career hangs in the balance like every other school board employee I know, and the prospects look grim. It’s hotter than Hades outside, family health issues run amuck, and Norway reminds us that no one is safe.

Tomorrow’s not guaranteed, and while I have plans and hopes and dreams for future days, I’m content with this moment. More than content, I’m eternally grateful for the confetti in my shoes.