Today, I spent time with myself.
After dropping MD off at school, I headed back home, coffee in hand. Tuned into the college radio station, I began to methodically go through stacks of paper. I gathered up the clusters of cups and snack wrappers from the living room. I hugged the dog a lot. By nine, I had reworked a few poems. Made the bed, wiped the counters down, vacuumed and dusted. I listened to the radio station with limited interruptions. The dog laid out on the hardwood floors by the back door- because that’s where the sun comes in brightest and best. For a quick moment, I glanced out the back window with the hopes of seeing our cat. She wasn’t there. Her absence is a pock mark on my heart.
Before noon, I headed into town and checked in at the spa. A rare and delightful treat. 90 minutes of someone kneading out the stress that has piled on my shoulders. 90 minutes of calming oils, heated wraps, and the kneading. I’ve been keeping so much to myself. A limited audience to my frustrations, I’ve sat quietly and shut people out. Stripping down to my polka dotted panties, I crawled under the blanket, onto the table and let my arms dangle off the side. With my eyes closed, I drifted off as I felt the untangling of my body. I walked into that building with deep tension draped on my bones and walked out feeling perfect. That’s exactly how I felt. PERFECT.
As I opened the car door, I remembered I needed to send a postcard off to Russia. The bookstore no longer sells them. I couldn’t tell you the last time I bought a postcard, but I’m sure I’ll find one soon. Hopefully the recipient doesn’t mind the mail being late. Wandering around a bookstore when no one is shopping is quite pleasant. I had forgotten what being out and about while everyone else is at work was like. Grabbed two magazines and a sketch book. Looked over some cook books, some poets, some classics. I’ve been reading the same book for well over six months. I decided to keep my materials light. Instead of leaving straight away, I sat in the car listening to jazz and soaking up the sunshine.
At home, I made a cup of tea. Folded some clothes. Grilled a veggie burger. Listened to a band called Hospitality. She sings over and over, “I miss your bones, I miss your bones, I miss your….”
Today I needed the solitude.
Tomorrow I turn thirty five.
That’s as far as my plans go.
One day at a time loves, one day at a time.