I took a day of vacation today, so after a few morning errands and chores, I have spent most of the afternoon on the sofa reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. April and I have been renting some of the older movies (we have recently watched numbers two and three) and I was in the mood for a better quality of Harry Potter. April lay on the other sofa with a purple blanket and Ophelia upon her, and Viola was curled upon a beige blanket near my head. It was pouring down rain outside, we were warm with fresh bread baking in the kitchen, and all was right with the world.
Listening to the rain drum on the chimney cover, I realized the room we were lounging in was half the size of our old apartment. April asked if I’d like her to bake some cookies and I said no, I wanted for nothing, and I was cozy and enjoying that the two of us were sitting in the same room for such a long period of time. It’s not that we don’t have free time where we sit in the same room, but every moment is to be cherished. I will remember today.
A moment of guilt reared up for not writing as I poured my fourth cup of coffee, but I shrugged it off and returned to my book. We need these good times, and besides, what would be the fun of life without them? I know of writers whose passion drove them to write constantly, who felt a burning, pressing need to get all their words and ideas out and onto paper. They foreswore their families, friends, and health to get the ideas written.
I want to be happy and enjoy my life. Writing makes me happy, so I do it sometimes. Lying on the couch with April and our snoozing cats (for I enjoy them much more when they are snoozing) makes me happy. Playing World of Warcraft sometimes makes me happy, coffee almost always does, and being warm and dry while it is raining outside is simply blissful.
Today is a good memory. It is part of a life worth living.