My life...

I'm sitting on my couch, looking around at my living room this morning.  I see the laundry piles waiting to get cleaned while the spinning sounds of my washing machine are drowning out the Foo Fighters on my iPod.  I see a coffee table filled with crayons, markers, two journals, two mini coloring books, a partially colored coloring sheet.  There is a coaster sprawled in that mess, along with paperwork from a doctor's visit detailing out surgery directives.  There is a tin holding more coloring implements, a plastic sandwich bag, open with random markers of different shapes and sizes.  One of the coloring books is open to a picture of a pony, with multi-colored hair and a forgotten crayon laying on top.  

On my couch, where the pillows are all askew, there lays a dog purse, upside down with legs in the air, waiting for a little girl to get home and put it on her shoulder, and walk around like a big girl.  This purse is next to a throw blanket, balled up in the corner of the couch, waiting for someone else to sit, and cover themselves, warming up from the frozen winter outside while watching a little TV, or reading a book.

The doors to my entertainment center are open, at least one door is, proudly displaying the disarray of video game systems and game controllers, blu-ray player and cable box.  Some dvd's lay sadly, waiting for some organized person to pick them up and find the box they belong in and put them away so that they stop gathering dust.  I look into the shelves and see the Guitar Hero guitar and wonder how long until we have to give that away too.  And really - what are all those cords and wires really for?

Looking at my floor, there are two socks, not matching, but clearly worn and discarded by some child that can't seem to figure out that the living room is not her dirty sock receptacle.  Then, some little pink bits catch my eye.  What is that?  Play doh bits, dried up on my carpet.  Right next to the gum that some six year old dropped onto the carpet and now is a permanent fixture.  On the stairs, more laundry that needs to get sorted to it's special load so it can get washed.  A dog bed, that needs to be cleaned again, even though we just washed it a week ago.  And that crazy dog keeps trying to get me to let him out, just so he can go bark at the neighbors dogs behind the fence.

I reach for my coffee, look out the window, enjoying the sunlight and quiet before I have to get up and go again.