Life

The Next Day

Drag yourself out of bed. Take a long shower. Check your sunburn. Put on a nice dress even though you’re kind of sunburned. Eat something healthy, oatmeal perhaps. Sit on your steps and watch the turtledoves nest while you drink your coffee. Wave to the cat across the yard and pet him when he comes to say hi. Grumble and peel all the friggin orange cat fur off of your dress. Read your roommate’s New Yorker. Read even the fiction part, which is kind of so-so, but you get sucked in a bit anyways.

Draw something. Play Draw Something. Call your uncle back about his questions about San Francisco housing. Say you’ll try to ask around for your cousins. Wonder if this means that he wants you to host them? Consider subletting your room to your cousins. Laugh VERY hard.  Call your mom about your uncle’s call. Write your friends back, then decide to call them instead. Talk to your cheerful roommate about nothing in particular, but feel better because he always makes you feel better. Wish that you could have that effect on people, just by talking to them. Wonder if you’re starting to get too dependent on being around other people. Decide that that’s probably a good thing, putting down roots.

Go ahead and get your laundry out of the way. While you wait for your clothes to dry read your journal and laugh at all the old stuff, even the really squirmy stuff that was horrible at the time. Write something new for today. Be honest. Clean the house to Watch the Throne. Feel like a badass until upstairs neighbor turns Led Zeppelin on in retaliation, not that you don’t like Led Zeppelin, but you were in a certain mood, damnit.

Go for a bike ride. It doesn’t have to be a long one, but you make it longer because it feels good.  When you’re going fast you can’t hear anything else but your heart beating. On your way back pick up grocery store sushi and sit and eat it in the park. Think about somebody that you care about, and send them love. Take a picture. Play on the swings with the kids. Think maybe kids aren’t so bad to be around, but jeez I still don’t want one. Drop off your overdue movies at the local videoshop. Pay your late fees.

Pick up a coffee from the place across the street even though you already have coffee at home and it’s getting kind of late for coffee. Play Liar’s Dice with friends. Make a really weird dinner with the last of your groceries. Throw everything else out. Pack your bag. Move your bike. Take a bath. Watch YouTube. Stretch. Go to bed. Dream. Take care.

One Comment

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.