a softness...

This morning, as I hung sheets on the line, I thought a lot about this craving for a softer life.

For a long time, I understood a soft life to be a quiet one–a peaceful one–and I wasn’t sure where I fit into such a thing. While I love a cricket serenaded evening, I also adore loud music. The routine of folding laundry is best done in time to a beat and intermitted with terrible dance moves… Chw will often drive in silence, while I personally cannot fathom such madness. Silence? A car is less of a car without a stereo. I am that girl who cares about a minimal amount of luxuries where my car is concerned, but damn, those speakers had better sound incredible, and they had better be prepared to go loud…

As nice as a softer life sounded, clearly, a softer life wasn’t for me.