I hate doing laundry.

I hate doing my laundry.  It is one of the many indulgences I truly miss from being a child.  I miss the way your clothes just magically showed up in your drawers clean and then you played in the dirt with no cares that they would inevitably get dirty.  So here I am, sitting on the washing machine, missing the simplicities of childhood.

My dear friend Erin Niles sent me a lovely letter today.  In our handwritten correspondence, we ask each other questions.  For instance: "If you could have dinner with anyone, living or dead, who would it be and why?" And, "If you ruled a country, which country would it be."  And now my favorite for which I will spend most of this blog discussing, "What does the perfect day look like for you?"

My perfect day?

I wake up at 7:00 perfectly rested and wide awake.  I take a shower.  Pull on a freshly dried pair of my favorite Gap jeans.  Fix my hair, put on my favorite Fossil t-shirt and yellow cardigan and head to work on my bicycle (which I made).  I show up to work on time and ready to go.  I start working as a barista, making coffee for the locals.  Oh, did I mention I'm in Guatemala, speaking Spanish fluently to all who enter?  Seeing as it's a pretty relaxed joint, I get to play whatever music I like.  Naturally, I play some Dave Bruebeck, Melody Gardot, Miles Davis, Jamie Cullum, Madeleine Peyroux.  You know, that jazzy stuff.  I then get off work around 2:30 and take a nice ride across town on my bike, to the orphanage(Or Boys and Girls club.  This part is subject to change).  I change into more fitting apparel and am greeted by dozens of children after school.  I then play until I'm joined by a handsome young man, who can't be much older than me.  He and I continue to play with the children until just after dinner time, all the while unabashedly flirting with each other.  We share dinner with them, tuck a few of the younger ones into bed, help the older ones with their homework and then proceed to leave the building.  We both get on our bicycles which are parked next to each other.  Then I take a nice, leisurely ride home with my husband; side by side, ready to take on the big adventures of the next day.

That's my perfect day.

So, as I sit here, waiting for my laundry to dry, I realize I have a horrid stomach ache and a hurting back.  But I was so lost in my make believe story of my perfect day, I quite lost track of time.

This blogging thing is really growing on me.