Through a Glass, Darkly

Every time Mike goes out of town, I feel the urge to act like a teenager and throw wild keg parties. Which is ridiculous . . . why do I act as if he’s the adult in our house? He might care if I was throwing wild keg parties, it’s true, but he doesn’t care if I eat pizza rolls or popcorn for dinner. (I know, I know, we’ve been over this before. I told you this happens every time.)

With all this big talk about acting wild and crazy, you would think that I . . . acted wild and crazy last night. You would be wrong. Yesterday I went grocery shopping, baked a cake, folded laundry, did dishes, and went to see my brother for his birthday. I was in bed before 10:00, finished the book I was reading (don’t tell the doctor I was reading in bed, because she told me not to. But when there’s no one else home, it’s just more fun to read in bed than anywhere else, because bed is where the pizza rolls and popcorn are), and was asleep before Mike called at 10:30. It’s a good thing I’m going to the movies tonight, because I . . . am . . . boring. But the house looks better than it did.

Last night before I went to bed, I made a list of all the things I needed to do this morning, including calling a doctor, watering the garden before I left the house, and making sure I had everything I needed to go to the movies tonight. I have been making lots of lists lately, both at work and at home, just to cut down on stress. It seems to help. And so, this morning I remembered to go to the backyard and water the plants.

At 7:30 am, our backyard was beautiful. The sun’s beams were filtering through the trees, there was a mist near the ground, everything was covered in dew, and the neighbor’s dogs were apparently not yet awake, so it was quiet and peaceful. I watered the tomato plants and peppers (we had to give up on squash, which is so disappointing) and then the trees before leaving for work. The hem of my pants was wet and a little dirty, but it was nice to be outside during the cool part of the day. This post, with the going to bed early and getting up early to water the plants and call the doctor, is further evidence that I’m a morning person.

Maybe it’s all the Drunkard’s Prayer that I’ve been listening to lately, maybe it’s the fact that I have had Elizabethtown on my mind, but I’ve been feeling melancholy lately in a good way. The kind that makes you want to “wallow in delicious misery” and “get into the deep beautiful melancholy.” My doctor talked about how sometimes, we here in America freak out when things are hard, because we buy into the idea that life is supposed to be happy and easy. I think that’s why I’ve been playing so much Drunkard’s Prayer (especially “Born,” which for some inexplicable reason is on my iPod twice) at work, because it’s both melancholy and hopeful at the same time. I think I’m learning how to be okay with being a little sad, instead of feeling like I need to make myself fight it because it’s not “right” to be sad. Being alone in the yard this morning watching the sun and the mist coexist, I felt like that was a picture of how I was doing inside. The sun was there, and things were green and growing, but there was an element that the sun hadn’t reached.

Meanwhile, other than forgetting to buy stamps on my lunch break, my list is complete. Movie night tonight, girls’ night tomorrow (complete with outdoor movie watching and a hot tub), and hopefully I’ll be squeezing some more alone time in there, too. And probably listening to Over the Rhine a few hundred more times.

Pour me a glass of wine
Talk deep into the night
Who knows what we’ll find

Secret fears, the supernatural
Thank God for this new laughter
Thank God the joke’s on me -OtR, “Born”