A rainy night should be the perfect time to get out of the house, away from my normal nighttime mothering and housekeeping responsibilities, and over to a coffee shop. I made sure I had my cash and my laptop and hit the road. When I pulled up at the 24-hour Starbucks, I parked and turned off the engine and just sat there. The rain collected on my windshield and cars drove by in a steady stream. It was peaceful in my car, and lonely, but a good kind of lonely. I am equal parts introvert and extravert but tonight I was dominated by the one who is not at all thrilled by the prospect of walking into a super-crowded coffee shop full of chatty people. I sat in my mini van for a full 45 minutes trying not to stare at the couple embracing in the rain; trying to muster the wherewithal to march in and order a coffee; trying not to feel a little creepy and foolish for sitting there doing all that trying. Finally, I picked up my purse and headed in. I ordered my venti-sized decaf latte and found a perfect spot in the corner where last week I noticed a guy lean back and go to sleep. I worked on a few of my writing projects tuned out the odd conversation at the next table. Just before ten p.m., I looked up and noticed a man staring at me. I recognized him. He was the guy who'd had my spot exactly a week ago and made use of it as a napping place. That was it. Time to leave. I should have paused by the door to see if he took over my seat, but I didn't. I was looking forward to home, pajamas, and sitting in my house in total post-kids'-bedtime-quiet - a rare happening. Besides, I know he made his way to that corner spot. In a bustling shop, it was the place to be.
Today my daughter emphatically stated that part of her lunch tasted like fingernail polish remover. We had a guest, who was being served the same dish so I gently chastized my daughter for being rude - she knows it's bad manners to criticize food while it's being eaten. She tried to make it better: "Well, it doesn't taste like BAD nail polish remover."
I'm trying to read a pretty heady philosophy book right now. To my dismay, two other books I've been looking forward to reading just arrived at my front door from Amazon. They're oddly similar to a temptation - except that reading one book over another isn't a sin. Still, somehow I feel like it would be cheating on the difficult book to pick up one of the others.
With news of Philip Seymour Hoffman's death this past Sunday, I've been on an addiction-article-reading binge. Based on my own struggles, and those of my family members and friends, plus the insights of these articles, I can state that I don't believe addiction is selfish; I do think many of us are often only a breath away from stepping over an invisible line toward harmful behavior; and there are some darn good writers out there who are also addicts.
As the Olympics opened tonight, I am heartily missing our cable. It's time to figure out how to work it back into the budget, but this is something we should have thought of in time for tonight. Now I have to invite myself over to friends' houses.
Today is 2-7-14. It's a math problem! Two times seven equals fourteen. I don't know what this means but it won't happen again until July 2nd, so be sure to take note.
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1 comment:
#2 is hilarious! And despite hating math (more of an English girl myself) I love dates that work out mathematically! My son was born on 2/26/13 and while I'm sure any date would have sufficed there was a little part of me that was like "Score!".
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