I was told that my life is boring.
I think that was meant to be a compliment.
By boring, I think she meant that my struggles are less than most others right now, and because of that, my life is boring?!?
She wished for my boring life of comfort and stability, where she thinks I only have to worry about what to make for dinner.
She’s partially right, and if this life is boring, I am content.
I like boring. Sometimes.
It makes me a good listener because I am curious about others and prefer to listen to their exciting stories than share my boring ones.
I like the comfort that my boring life presents. I love that I am able to stay home with my kids and I like taking them to the doctor in the middle of the day, without having to cancel work.
I like that I can choose to volunteer on strategic projects and to give back to my community without having standard work hours or expectations.
I like that I get to drive my kids to and from appointments and that they talk to me in the car about real life when they’re not too tired and are captive participants.
I love that I get to choose when to exercise and shop and to do it at off peak hours.
I love that I can socialize in the middle of the day, when my kids are at school and no one needs me.
Boredom and simplicity have a certain excitement about them. I love my boring life. Just the way it IS.