sparkle.

I've started making weekly goals, and yesterday I made a goal to not be super cranky today- monday.

I try not to, but

I hate mondays.

I hate them almost as much as

I hate the smell of milk that has gone bad.

Actually, that's what mondays are to me: sundays that have been sitting out too long and now have turned to sour mondays.

Anyway, back to my goal; not my smelly analogy that defeats the purpose of it.

I've been feeling suffocated lately with the combination of work and photography, and I finally caught up with some of my photo shoot editing. When my clients are out of state, I always use the same little postal shoppe. It's about 2 miles from our apartment, and run by the most lovely old man. I stopped by, and he greeted me with his normal cheerfulness. I've never known a lousy mailman. The mailman who delivered to our family in Texas is also the sweetest man in the world. When I was a little girl I would put flowers in the mailbox for him with notes expressing thanks for bringing us anticipated goods from afar. I think there must be some sort of mailman oath that says something like, "We, the mailmen of america swear to be sweet at all times." Seriously.


Anyway as I was chatting with the mailman, he asked me if I was doing my photography full time. Explaining that I do it super part time since I have a job that takes up all of my week, my mailman sighed, and said, "I wish you could visit me more,

You're the sparkle in my day."

If he was a middle aged man with a toupee, it would have been creepy and a little upsetting. But he's a sweet old man with kind eyes and suspenders. He uses a cane to get from on end of his shoppe to the other. He always has fresh lavender in an antique vase on his counter, and he smells of peppermint.
He has a picture of himself, his wife and a dog that looks like it's about as old as they are.

And he thinks that I sparkle.

Lately I've felt more like a dud than a sparkler. Roll out of bed because my brain makes me. Kiss gid as he leaves for work. Put concealer under my eyes to hide the obvious stress that I want so desperately to disappear. Sit at work for 7-10 hours. Get back in the car. Get home. Make something horribly cliche and pathetic like hamburger helper. Shower. Crawl into bed, kiss my husband goodnight. Sleep. Wake up. And then I roll out of bed because my brain makes me.

But as "dud"ful as I felt, someone thought of me as a sparkle. And I wasn't even wearing anything remotely glittery. I was in a postal shoppe. I think of sparkles in my life: my sweet husband naturally, my photography clients, my friends, my bloggie buddies, my family. Gosh, I miss my family.

There are sparkles everywhere. They surround me.

I'd love to hear the different unique places people find sparkle.

Where do you find it?

ps- you should really probably comment, because I hate it when

people ask questions on their blog and no one responds.

Help a sister out, huh?