"normal"

Possibly considered a "normal" day. After waking up, having a cup of 'joe' with my man, dog at our feet, and kitty in my lap I cross into the routine of the day. Grab some clothes, lace up my shoes and have one last tug o' war match with the dog on my way out the door. A bittersweet goodbye from my husband and off I go again.

Driving down the 215, crossing into the west side of town, over the border and into Henderson, NV, I reach my daily destination. My job. My 9-5, but in my case it's 11 - 7. I function through this job with a strange level of pride and understanding. I know at the end of the day there's a reason behind what I do.

On my way home, the sun has already set, and if I'm lucky I got to watch it go down over the mountains. I don't normally have to fight through rush hour, because of my strange hours at work, and I'm home in 25 - 30 minutes.

When I step through the door I look forward to the smell of my home. The bum-rush from my dog to jump up and give me a kiss. My cat meowing insistently until I pet him or give him some attention. And the "hey baby" from my man as I reach the top of the stairs. I never know what we'll have for dinner or how it will be fixed. I never know if we will have to change our plans last minute or not. I never know just how my day will end, but I know just enough to know for sure that I'm home and I've had a pretty good day.