When Perfect Is Not Available

This past Sunday, Father's Day, was one of the best days I've had all year. It wasn't perfect. It was Father's Day without my dad nearby. Still, I got to sing praises first thing in the morning with some of my favorite worship leaders. I had a free church-side ice cream, double scoop and delicious. I got to enjoy a seriously beautiful Tennessee summer day, in and on the lake. I was in the company of some great friends. Then, I got to come home and cook one of my favorite dishes. I even got a tan.

But what I'm happiest about is that I spent the day without complaining. Sure, it was a "can't complain" kind of day, but, really, we all know there's always something we can complain about. I don't like being thousands of miles from my dad on Father's Day, without the ability to communicate a simple "Happy Father's Day". But, I wasn't complaining. 

I had the serenity to accept what I could not change. 

I was actually living the serenity prayer, and it was beautiful. 

Better than perfect. 

On Set With Fancy Cars

What was my major discomfort this past weekend? Heels. It's funny because I was much more concerned about having my first on-screen kiss (postponed) and memorizing my lines (nailed it). Turns out my biggest challenges of the weekend were walking and staying dry. Glamorous right? I'm one of the leads in an upcoming indie film, so my hours were long on shooting weekend. So long were my hours that I turned right back to caffeine after a pretty chill I-don't-need-coffee kind of month. Not to worry, I have this shockingly good green drink lined up to balance out that delicious dark roasted acid.

 

Driving my character's car was definitely a highlight. I've always been perfectly content in a 90s sedan, but after a 30 second learning curve with this luxury vehicle I was powering the engine and changing gears with only buttons. Buttons! Still, it's nice to have a car that won't have me cursing the heavens with every scratch. I'd probably turn into a real asshole with a fancy car. I'd literally bump Iggy Azalea's "Fancy" and drive with only my right hand at 12 o'clock, leaned back. I might even purchase an e-cig for my fancy drives to nowhere important. I'd take my broken speedometer over becoming that person any day. 

Note: If you are that person, we can still be friends. You can be my real life Schmidt.