I was in between activities the other afternoon, which is the usual these days. I had dropped Aidy off at soccer practice on the wide, green fields behind the middle school and done a quick round of grocery shopping (J says I need to be more efficient in my shopping, a particular brand of advice giving - that is, providing advice about household chores that you, yourself, do not do - we will discuss on another day).

I had decided somewhere during that frantic grocery spree that I would buy myself a Diet Coke, which is a treat - if you can call it such a thing - I enjoy once or twice a month. No judgment here, no reason. It just happens to be true. Every once in awhile I want that particular taste, caffeine content and level of carbonation. I like the cans better than the bottles, and I like the fountain version at a fast food place best of all. It hits the spot, as they say, and it hits the spot infrequently enough that when the urge appears, I succumb without question.

But I forgot to get the Diet Coke at the store and I was cursing myself because there were only about 7 minutes until I needed to be back at the field to pick up Aidy. If I didn’t have it I’d be fine, obviously, but if I did have it I’d be fantastic.

I don’t know if this is going to resonate with anyone, or, instead, make me sound insane, but every once in a clear blue while, I remember that I am an adult with the power to make my own decisions. Every once in awhile, as I’m navigating in cruise control through these busy days, I remember that I could, in fact, take 5 minutes to sit and think about what I should do next. That I am not beholden to this often-happy madness but, in more respects than not, its master. There are non-negotiables, sure. Like, it’s best to pick up your daughter from soccer practice. It’s best to go to work and to manage your finances. But there are choices within these frameworks, too. Major choices about career and actives, about who you spend your time with and when you need help.

Minor choices about what you should do with the now only 6 minutes until you pick up your daughter that, perhaps, speak to larger issues about how you take care of yourself.

I turned left into the convenience store at a gas station on my way to the soccer field where I quickly found a plastic bottle of Diet Coke (no cans). When I brought it up to the counter, the man working there began asking me about my day. Had anything fun happened? How many children did I have? I was surprised at the small talk. I was delighted. Plenty of fun things had happened, including this impromptu conversation and the anticipation of what was just ahead.

We told one another to have a good night. I opened the bottle as soon as I got in the car and was off, a minute late but a million times better.