Today is one of those days when I wish it didn’t have to end. After breakfast we drove to our spot for coffee, it was pouring rain and my husband played a new song called “31” on the car stereo that fit the mood of a rainy day. We got a sandwich to share and some chocolate chip cookies and a cinnamon roll from another spot we love. We picked up some ingredients to make the white beans we wanted to make for dinner, came home, and I cleaned while he prepped the chicken he got since we ran all out of our marinades. We decided not to cook because we weren’t very hungry, and had perogies instead. I read my book (Rachel Cusk’s Outline! I’m enjoying it so far) and he played his video game (he’s replaying one of the Metro games) - sharing the same room, the same couch. We did this all evening and are still doing it now, and I don’t want the night to end (I put on a load of laundry just to lengthen it). Lately I’ve become more cautious of entering new days, like I want to fully know them before I live them even though that’s not possible. I thought that as I got older I would let go a little more, but my grip on things has tightened even more, it’s hard to let go especially of these ephemeral stretches of peace. My unfounded and irrational paranoia makes my mornings difficult - my husband often has to soothe me into a calmer state when I wake up (more so, ever since he read about how harmful it is to wake up and start your day in an anxious, panicked state).
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