Full.

On my last day of work at The OC, I was serenaded by a tap-dancing chicken. Clarification: it was actually a person dressed in a chicken suit but y'all: a singing, tap-dancing chicken came to work and sang...to me. That's one of those once-in-a-lifetime events that as much fun as it is in the moment, it's just as fun to talk about it later. There's video documentation of this whole occasion floating around Facebook, but here's a still shot:

Shortly after the video was posted I got a text from a BFF that said "you look extremely uncomfortable in the dancing chicken video. It's hilarious." She was correct on both counts. I loved the dancing chicken, but I was rendered utterly speechless when it was happening. [Please see pic above as evidence of my natural awkwardness.] As I was looking around the office surrounded by the people I had worked with for the last 5 years, not only was I at a loss for words, I was completely and totally humbled that they had orchestrated something so fantastic specifically for me. I felt so undeserving. I still do.

When the song and dance was over with all eyes on me, I realized that I was going to have to say something. It's times like these when one-dimensional words never do justice to what I'm feeling on the inside. The only way that I know to describe it is that I just feel full. Like, filled to the brim with joy and appreciation and love and well, emotion...full. I tried my best to verbally communicate that but I'm not a very polished impromptu speaker because I tend to think about a conversation or event even after it's done. I need time to respond to something. Factor in the tears and it was just a bit of a mess. Places you will never find me: participating in a political debate. In that particular moment, I was full.

It's only been one week since I left the little city that I slowly grew to love. Yesterday I scheduled some meetings and appointments in town to coincide with election day, and I had a work event in town today. This evening as I was driving out of town, I realized that I could not stop the tears that were once again determined to fall. I would be lying if I said that there was not a single trace of sadness in them, but mainly it was because I was just full after two very full days. It's one of the best feelings I know.

Last Thursday at family dinner, my cousin Kyle looked at me and asked "So what's the plan, Heather?". Frankly, these days I cringe at that question, but as I was driving tonight, I realized [ok, I realized it a long time ago, perhaps " finally admitted" is more appropriate] that for far too long I have been so focused on getting to the future and the next item on the agenda that I tend to look at individual days as "just another sleep until..." instead of individual and unique 24 hour increments of time that I will only get once. So the plan right now is to try my hardest to have a full day. Each day. Sure, not every day will include a singing and dancing chicken, but something standard like a 2.5 hour conversation with the stylist at the salon can factor into the equation for a full day if we allow it to. [Yes, I was in the chair for 2.5 hours yesterday. No, my hair looks nothing like Jennifer Aniston's.]

Very, very slowly I'm learning that the best days are the ones that cannot be summarized by checking items off of a to-do list. And this is coming from a girl who loves checking items off of a to-do list as a measure of accomplishment. The best days are ones that are felt in a way that cannot be described any other way but as being "full".

My cup runneth over.