Today is an ordinary day.

It begins like all the rest—
waking up, cold shower, commute, hearty oat breakfast, work, at least look like working.

Lunch break brings a walk with a friend.
We talk.
Well—gossip, if I’m being honest.
Then back to our desks,
until five o’clock,
when my husband waits in the parking lot,
like he always does.

after work,
I picked up the barbell.
Twenty minutes of lifting,
muscles straining, breath steady.
I showed up for my body,
even when the day felt heavy.

I kept expecting something—
a spark,
a miracle,
a phone call that changes everything.
Something to spin my life around—
180 degrees of transformation.
But no.
Just another quiet day.
And it’s almost 9 p.m.
The bills are still unpaid.
The weight still sits on my chest.

Then she arrives—
the wiser version of me.
Soft-spoken, but steady.

“Can’t you see?” she asks.
“This ordinary day is the most beautiful kind.”

I close my eyes,
and I remember.

I remember the year I was jobless,
scrolling listings with a dry throat,
watching people in office clothes
holding paper cups and purpose.
I envied them,
ached to be them.

And now I am.
But I forgot.
I forgot that this
dull, predictable, lovely day
was once my dream.

So thank you—
to the voice that reminded me.
To the quiet that held me.
To the life I live,
even when I fail to notice it.

This is a beautiful, successful, ordinary day.

Karin Sabrina