My window

My drink and what went with it

Imagine coming home and seeing these on your bed.

Once in a while, I wrap up my work in the office, get off the train, but do not go straight home.

I stop by Chatime, to get a fix of my favorite roast milk tea with pearl, but moreso to really just stop and take a breather.

The house and the office are two places where I assume great responsibilities and where I often get stressed (never-ending expenses plus petty bickering plus other growing pains plus insane requests plus incompatible computers plus freak glitches plus less-than-circumspect team players). This is not to say that I resent these places. On the contrary, I love them, and I am never more fulfilled than when I put on the Mom/Homemaker and the Journalist hats.

Still, like everyone, I need to take a break once in a while.

And that was just what I did earlier this evening. The weekend had been full, I went to Enchanted Kingdom with the kids and my ex-husband, and there were some disappointments I had to deal with in grad school (okay, a B in a Creative Writing exercise). Another big week was coming up, with its multitude of demands.

I needed no more than 45 minutes. No pressures this time, just doing what I wanted to do. I fished out next week's reading for my Conflict and Peace Reporting class, which I loved. When I was nearly done with my drink, I tore open the plastic lid and chewed on the ice and then sank my teeth into the sweet sticky tapioca pearls.

On the way home, I continued with the autobiography that I had been reading.

I arrived home and suddenly the house was in order and inviting and the kids (only the older ones are with me tonight) were in their own neat rooms, and I went to my own room and found a bunch of red roses and yellow daisies, as well as a bottle of C2 milk tea, from Bea. Tea, again, lovely!

And I know I will be fine -- no, more than fine.