I'm officially done teaching for the year, the seniors have graduated and all of my obligations--aside from checking out of Room 212--are fulfilled.
I'm listening to Morning Edition on NPR instead of watching the clock to make sure we get to school on time today.
I'm drinking coffee out of a regular mug, not a travel mug. It feels so civilized.
I have bed-head but my hair's at a length where it doesn't look terrifying. I contemplate whether to shower sooner or later, probably later after I've messed around in the garden for a couple hours.
My bare feet are curled up beneath me on the carpet, the temperature is perfect for shorts and tank top.
I hear birds chattering and someone's lawn mower.
I see the potted flowers I set out on the front porch last night. I see peonies budding, the honey locust's leaves fully unfurled, the first lupines in bloom.
I smell spring air, tainted by cut grass, freshly turned soil and that just-rained-recently kind of aroma.
Most of the offspring are still sleeping, that makes the house feel quieter.
Rose is lounging on the floor nearby (she doesn't like to sit on laps, but she enjoys companionship at a distance of 3 feet).
Mr. D is sitting in "his spot" doing something on his phone, wearing his glasses halfway down his nose.
Mr. T just returned from grabbing a book from his locker at school because finals start tomorrow.
This pleasant day came at a price I didn't pay, I appreciate the sacrifice others made.