What could feel better than a day off in place of a normal workday, bare feet lightly twitching against folds of flannel and polarfleece and velvet as fingers tap surely over keys, then pause to ensconce themselves in a scritch underneath a cat’s chin.
Nose tucked into a cup of coffee so rich and sweet as nerves spark, alight, flutter. I’m crushing schoolgirlishly on Mark Morford’s brain again, after reading another of his exquisite treatises. I’m fantasizing about peanut butter pizza, poems half-formed but bright and slick like tadpoles, and about the small goddess in charge of finding silver linings in even the darkest thundercloud.
It’s about more than getting over it. It’s about more than sucking it up and moving on. It’s about more than things changing, more than being unable to change the way you feel. It’s about more than any cliché, so you can skip all of them. They’re shorthand for a way we wish we could live. No one is that simple. No one is a TV show or a song or a color or an oft-repeated phrase. And that, my friends, is what makes no one and everyone so beautiful.
I love today, because today contains both whatever I remember from yesterday and whatever I hope for tomorrow. Let’s touch at the edges and be happy.
Current mood: Current music: