Friday, I ran the trails and hills of Bernal Heights with the best of ’em. We caught an incredible sunrise, had orange slices stuffed into our mouths, sweat a lot, laughed even more. Coming back, I scurried around the house and somehow managed to scarf down some breakfast, shower, dress appropriately for work and pack something less-appropriate for work to be worn at a dance rehearsal later. I re-cut my finger on one of my laps around the dining room to which my roommate matched my hurried pace and found a Disney Princess band-aid to hand me as I rushed out the door in unlaced high-tops, a messy bun and a nautical red peacoat.

I race down the hill, see the 28 bus approaching hop on, jumping between those rolling metal shopping carts that take up three-seats each, take a seat among the Chinese-Market-bounds and put on my band-aid, lace my shoes, adjust my hair-tie and take a deep breath.

I look down at my thumb feeling pretty darn accomplished and see Belle, my favorite of the Disney Princesses, staring straight up at me. Tale as old as time, my old friend.

I wish I could tell you that that was the end of my rushing around for the day but let me sum it up by saying it was only the beginning. I got a little whiff of reassurance when my doctor who had ended the appointment with a hug walked back into the room greeting me all over again. For a moment I thought we should switch places but her hand to forehead just made me realize that we were having a similar kind of morning.

A couple shots to the arm, long work day, teaching yoga, dance rehearsal for a flash-mob proposal and a karaoke bar later, I came home to a house full of flowers and a new furniture arrangement that was just lovely. I fell into bed hard and happy.

Isn’t this what living is all about? Don’t get me wrong, this girl loves to get her eight hours of sleep. But there are those mornings when you wake up and you’re not groggy and angry but satisfied and happy that the lack of sleep is residue of living. I find myself wiping those eye-boogers with a bit of a chuckle, remembering good conversations with new friends, a missed dance move, a note I couldn’t carry and an overpriced lyft ride. Worth it. No diggity. No doubt. (my next karaoke request)