On Sunday I took my car for the first wash since winter started. You know that's your cue that the worst is over. Here comes the sun. You relish that feeling if you live in Chicago. So much to forward to. Family vacations, longer days, working in the garden, riding your bike.
On Sunday, Blago looked forward to possibly 9 or more years of the same old same old. Three years have passed since he stepped through those prison doors. Three years of banging his head against the wall.
There's a new television show I'm watching called, "The Last Man on Earth." It's a comedy starring Will Forte as a normal guy who winds up surviving a virus that wipes off everyone else and he's the last man on earth. As I watch I can't help but think that his life is no different than Blago's in prison. In one scene he celebrates his birthday. A lonely candle shoved in a twinkie. He's thinking of birthdays past, surrounded by family. Hugs. He laments about missing Breakfast Burritos, and "getting mail." He masturbates...a lot...to compensate for the intense boredom.
I watched Blago step into prison three years ago and I've tried to live each day with gratitude that I'm not the one sitting in prison. It doesn't matter how low security it is. It still means he missed his daughter's high school graduation. Her first day in college. The holidays. Fresh sheets on the bed. Cool breeze through the open window at night. A fire on the patio. I know most folks think it's crazy to be thinking of Blago, but in doing so I've learned that you have to put yourself out there. You can't enjoy a beautiful day at the beach if you don't force yourself to get off the sofa and drive there. You can't enjoy a fire on the patio if you don't force yourself to collect the wood and just do it. You really don't know what you're missing until it's gone. Watch your dog spin around the kitchen when he knows it's time to go for a walk. Can you live your life with that kind of joy?
It's a new year of gratitude. Not taking small things for granted. Grateful NOT to be Blago.