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leahbobetToday was a good day, because today, for the first time in a long while, I managed to get in 12 hours of sleep. So I woke up happier and less sinusy/feverish than I have been in a good bit -- yeah, I still have circles under my eyes, but they're the normal overworked girl circles, not the Deathly Pallor of Illness -- and had a lazy breakfast, and walked around the city in the sub-zero nasty temperatures to buy cheese and replacement lighbulbs and lemons from Kensington Market because cold or not, I'd really just rather walk.
I did not make it to the Tightrope Books vintage clothing sale, even though it really was just down the street and around the corner, but it was cold. And I already spent too much at One of a Kind. And it was cold. Yes, this is the beginning of the season were I will opt not to do things because it is cold and my house is warm, and I have no cabana person to send down the street for milk.
So instead, tonight has been several loads of laundry, bill-paying, and some little bits of housekeeping (replacing those lightbulbs, dishes, spot 'o vacuuming), and Ideomancer work, with a cup of rose petal rooibos at my elbow. Order slowly reasserts itself in all things. Including and especially myself.
I had one of those moments this afternoon, sitting in The Grilled Cheese* at the corner booth table, with my coat off, scarf and hat on, working through a bowl of tomato soup with one hand and reading a collection of essays about Toronto's food infrastructure** with the other while the sunlight dropped in a grey sort of winter way outside and the radio played some classic rock station, where I suddenly saw myself from the outside. You know those: when you just stop and realize how you -- where you are, what you're doing, your hair and clothes and the general curve of your back -- looks to everyone else in the room; what semiotic subcultural signals you're sending off?
I had one of those this afternoon.
It made me happy, because there is this girl I used to want to be very badly and this life I thought was utterly out of my reach, and apparently I am her now. Without even consciously trying, most of the time; just by doing my thing.
So that's pretty awesome, that. Sometimes you can get what you want after all.
*Good, hot, crispy sammiches here. Nom nom.
**Good book here. Actually, all the ones in the uTOpia series are.
I did not make it to the Tightrope Books vintage clothing sale, even though it really was just down the street and around the corner, but it was cold. And I already spent too much at One of a Kind. And it was cold. Yes, this is the beginning of the season were I will opt not to do things because it is cold and my house is warm, and I have no cabana person to send down the street for milk.
So instead, tonight has been several loads of laundry, bill-paying, and some little bits of housekeeping (replacing those lightbulbs, dishes, spot 'o vacuuming), and Ideomancer work, with a cup of rose petal rooibos at my elbow. Order slowly reasserts itself in all things. Including and especially myself.
I had one of those moments this afternoon, sitting in The Grilled Cheese* at the corner booth table, with my coat off, scarf and hat on, working through a bowl of tomato soup with one hand and reading a collection of essays about Toronto's food infrastructure** with the other while the sunlight dropped in a grey sort of winter way outside and the radio played some classic rock station, where I suddenly saw myself from the outside. You know those: when you just stop and realize how you -- where you are, what you're doing, your hair and clothes and the general curve of your back -- looks to everyone else in the room; what semiotic subcultural signals you're sending off?
I had one of those this afternoon.
It made me happy, because there is this girl I used to want to be very badly and this life I thought was utterly out of my reach, and apparently I am her now. Without even consciously trying, most of the time; just by doing my thing.
So that's pretty awesome, that. Sometimes you can get what you want after all.
*Good, hot, crispy sammiches here. Nom nom.
**Good book here. Actually, all the ones in the uTOpia series are.
