let it take you over.


like when it’s just-after-five o’clock, the sunlight is spilling through your windshield, and you change to a new radio station right as Some Nights starts—
so there you are, in the sunshine and your cherry-red cardigan,
happy-dancing your dark-purple nails across the steering wheel and singing along at the top of your lungs,
savoring the buzz of being caught up in buttery sunshine, dazzled by the notes of a song you adore on a day in late autumn.

and when the quirky catalog headline I came up with at work not only charges a layout review with compliments from all sides;
& not only passes merchandising’s approval;
but also, makes it to print.

even after six years here, i’ve yet to wrap my head around the fact that my words are in people’s mailboxes and all over work’s website, serving as enticing magic dust for clothes & comforters & shoes & fire pits.

and when the Faces are both happy-napping in their favorite spots (Ella in the sunny spot on the back of the chair; Emerson curled up on the back of the couch) in the living room, especially on lazy, unremarkable weekend mornings;
& how, on the mornings Gus leaves for work earlier than I do, the Faces both wake up to keep him company, then tuck themselves right back into bed with me as soon as he’s out the door;
& the way Emerson’s face smooshes when she falls asleep on Gus’s lap, and how Ella sleeps in tiny cat-yoga poses on top of the towels in the bathroom.

like when you put together an outfit based entirely around a picture on Pinterest, and you totally nail it.

and when Mom & Dad invite you over to see their new kitchen in all of its remodeled glory, including an over-the-stove microwave that beeps a little song when it’s finished—
a tune with which Mom happily dances along, complete with dramatic head tilts, further demonstrating its (and her)  utter awesome.

and when, unexpectedly, you come across a quote in a book you’re reading
& you fall in love with it so hard that it stops you in your tracks.

“If I’ve learned one thing from my happiness project, it’s that if I want my life to be a certain way, I must be that way myself.

like when the simple, one-word text from husband—Done 🙂 🙂—lights up my phone at the end of the day,
because it means he’s one step closer to being home and snuggling down with me into our kingdom of incense & red furniture.

& when I’m snort-giggling at work, helpless with joy in the face of the 21 Most Awkward Situations In History (particularly #4, which you have to watch for a few seconds to fully absorb its utter win, and #11).

and when my sweater-knit eBay leggings show up in the mailbox, & they’re so wonderful I proceed to leap into them immediately and wear them for the rest of the night.

like when i look around and think—
this is a good life.

a good,
good life.

& i let it take me over. 

Advertisements

About ashley!

in love, obnoxiously happy, and up to a lot of awesome.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to let it take you over.

  1. Colleen says:

    Wonderful!!! 🙂

  2. ruggedgrace says:

    Your words are like the fireplace to my blizzard.

  3. You make me happy all over my face.

  4. Neil Thatcher says:

    YAY!!! You just made my whole winter!!

  5. In San Francisco we saw a lady with crocheted pants in seventies orange and brown. With the occasional pom pom. She was rocking them. I was wishing for something slightly more sedate for my own level of funk comfort.

  6. Buffy says:

    Those leggings are outstanding. Also, I need to see said outfit from Pinterest. ALSO you are painfully adorable. AND MERRY CHRISTMAS, YARD. I love this!

hi, cutie! what's on your mind?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s