Whimsy

The other Saturday night I stayed home and ironed my sheets.

The pillowcases too.

I ironed my 600 thread count sheets, spent a good amount of time making my bed perfectly, climbed into bed and watched a DVR'd Rom-Coms until I fell asleep. But that's not the sad part. What's sad is that I did not realize how sad it was until I was at brunch the next day and got asked what I did on Saturday.

It's not like I'm big on night life in the first place, and I do have my moments when I just want to lay back and do nothing all weekend. But I cannot remember a time when I was so comfortable being away from people and so content with it. When I allow myself to think I about it I worry that something is wrong.

Maybe it is, maybe it's not.