Misconstrued Moment of Me, Me, Me

A story about self-indulgence and not being present.

I flew home back to LA last night from holidays in Houston with my family.  My plane was slightly delayed and I had checked baggage, which I will tell you over and over again, never check bags to LAX.  It takes forever.

Anyways, I finally arrive home last night to my sweet and quaint apartment in Venice with my dog and boyfriend waiting for me at the front door.  They help this weary holiday traveler with luggage, much needed hugs and a momentary shared happiness to be home.

And then I spiraled.  I came in pretty charged from a long flight, conversations rambling in my head about some drama and a need to complain.   Oh, and complain I did for about an hour too long to my patient and sleepy boyfriend.

In waking up this morning, I am in utter awe and really sad as to what I missed last night amidst my bullsh*t complaining and lame vent session. 

It goes like this:

+  I missed out on how clean the house was when I walked in.  Eat-food-off-the-floor clean.

+ I missed out on the smell of a clean puppy, as my boyfriend had given him a bath earlier that day.

+ I missed out on the empty laundry basket and the fresh sheets I got to climb into.  Even worse, Chris had waited to pull back the sheets so we could climb into the Mountain Fresh fabric softener smell together.  Dear boyfriends of the World, are you taking notes?

+ I missed out on a full fridge stocked with delicious snacks for my work day the next day.  Sweetheart, thank you for the bacon.  I love you.

+ I missed out on showering my boyfriend with kisses and love, as I really had missed him for the 2 days we were apart.

+  I missed out on seriously praising and honestly thanking and appreciating this superman of a boyfriend for bathing the dog, cleaning the house, grocery shopping and finishing the laundry.  All of this for my arrival home.  Come on, self.

You see where I am going here?  I missed out on an epic life moment because I was too busy complaining about yesterday’s nothings.

Raise your hand if this feels somewhat oddly familiar?

How many times have we been so wrapped up in a petty yesterday’s nothing to miss what is happening right here and now?

We have choice.  We have the choice to get over it and see others.  See others beyond our own misconstrued moments of me, me, me.

Choose wisely, my friends.  Never too late to say thank you, I love you, I see you.

I’m talking to you, Mister.

Thankful for You.