wunderbare Leben redux
It's Wednesday (Tuesday when I started this post), and I'm still cheesing from a wonderful weekend. This isn't your everyday Tara typing.
When last I got caught up in actually doing my job, I was about to get out of the tub and head over to the library for the very first session of my ASL class. Outside temperatures were ridiculously chilly, and I had only a few minutes to spare.
Needless to say, I jumped into the car, still damp, and rushed to the library. Which turned out to be only a four or five blocks away. And completely devoid of parking. By the time I'd circled the neighborhood five times, I was 15 minutes late for class.
I was just parking the car at home (17 minutes late, now) when Shannon called. She decided to pull a sickie and help sort me (and my abandonned chores) out. We talked as I walked to class.
longstoryshort:
Shannon: I'll be there in 2 and 1/2 hours. Get to class.
Me: Bring party clothes.
Shannon: Get to class, little sister. Bundle up!"
Me (looking down at my thin autumn jacket): Umm... oh... Ooops! I'm here. Gotta go!
Class turned out to be great, and big sister greater.
The party was fun -- I got to dance to lot's of lost music from my youth -- though I didn't get to see much of James, as he was busy slinging drinks. I was near-dreanched in sweat by the time we headed home around 1-ish.
While Shannon sensibly went to sleep, I stayed up until 4 a.m., rereading the last six chapters of Lamplighter until the room stopped spinning.
And.... and, looking back, there was nothing remotely wonderful about my rushed, crazy, mind-spinning weekend. Except that I feel good.
Could it be, I'm just freaking happy?
Maybe.
When last I got caught up in actually doing my job, I was about to get out of the tub and head over to the library for the very first session of my ASL class. Outside temperatures were ridiculously chilly, and I had only a few minutes to spare.
Needless to say, I jumped into the car, still damp, and rushed to the library. Which turned out to be only a four or five blocks away. And completely devoid of parking. By the time I'd circled the neighborhood five times, I was 15 minutes late for class.
I was just parking the car at home (17 minutes late, now) when Shannon called. She decided to pull a sickie and help sort me (and my abandonned chores) out. We talked as I walked to class.
longstoryshort:
Shannon: I'll be there in 2 and 1/2 hours. Get to class.
Me: Bring party clothes.
Shannon: Get to class, little sister. Bundle up!"
Me (looking down at my thin autumn jacket): Umm... oh... Ooops! I'm here. Gotta go!
Class turned out to be great, and big sister greater.
The party was fun -- I got to dance to lot's of lost music from my youth -- though I didn't get to see much of James, as he was busy slinging drinks. I was near-dreanched in sweat by the time we headed home around 1-ish.
While Shannon sensibly went to sleep, I stayed up until 4 a.m., rereading the last six chapters of Lamplighter until the room stopped spinning.
And.... and, looking back, there was nothing remotely wonderful about my rushed, crazy, mind-spinning weekend. Except that I feel good.
Could it be, I'm just freaking happy?
Maybe.
posted by Tea Oli at 9:10 AM
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