one moment, of the well of life to taste

I have been working like an absolute dog the last few weeks, which is why I've been gone. Tonight, I finished one of my two remaining final projects, and it turned out to be a whopping 106 pages. Single spaced. I'm trying not to think about the other project, which I have to turn out in the next 48 hours. It's a ridiculous amount of work, really, and to go through it, little bit by little bit, feels at times like an exercise in futility. I tell myself that the work means more than an A at semester's end, that it must. It must.

But there was this moment the other day. I was sitting on my couch. The rain was pouring down, and I had a hot cup of coffee and a piece of red velvet cake. The house was filled with the smell of chicken chili wafting from the crockpot. I was reading and writing about fabulous movies: The Big Sleep. Only Angels Have Wings. To Have and Have Not. Rio Bravo. And, for a moment, I forgot the deadlines and the stress and everything but what I was doing, and I was supremely happy.

Even just the one moment of perfect happiness makes the 106 pages and the sleeplessness and the agony are worthwhile. I get to do something for a living that makes me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. After that, the red velvet cake is just icing.

* * *

This post is linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped, a tradition hosted by the lovely Emily at Chatting at the Sky in which she invites her readers to appreciate small, wonderful things. It's about finding something special in the ordinary things around you, and pressing the pause button in order to reflect on it, to take it in. Here's the link to today, unwrapped. Come meet the other ladies--you'll be so glad you did.