I am amazingly lucky this summer to have reduced hours at work. At least, I choose to look at it as luck. Now I can do class + house work on Fridays. Theoretically. Today, so far I have made good on a little cleaning, and re-potted a plant. Hooray for me.
Now if I could just finish my class assignments and find a new place for us to live for the next year. That would be great.
But who wants to think about commonplace things like that on a Friday, and a memorial day weekend Friday at that? Not I, good sir. It's been a moderately stressful week (aren't they all though), so I thought some happy thoughts were in order. This is what I'm dwelling on today:
Sunny-day, lounging-on-the-porch memories.
This cold press—made with a French roast, first time—which, spoiler alert, I am drinking RIGHT NOW.
This song. We've been listening to it and playing it at work all week.
This beautiful mug, a surprise gift from a kind customer, which makes me happy every time I look at it. Working at a coffee shop shouldn't be a hard job, and it really isn't, but sometimes it's stressful, mostly because people are imperfect and we all want to yell at each other sometimes. But there are things, like this thoughtful gesture, that—while I'm not going to be cliche and say they restore my faith in human goodness or something—are certainly very gratifying.
Okay, and if we're being honest about what certain persons have and have not been singing at work all week, and may in fact be singing right now, this song certainly deserves something more than honorable mention. So. Fancy.
This dog, who adores me more than anything for no reason. Loves me so much that if she were a human I would have a restraining order against her and she probably would have accidentally killed me with hugs by now. She just turned the big 1-0 too.
The Bourne Identity, brought to you by Robert Ludlum. After reading nonfiction for months on end a return to fiction has been like lemonade. I was pretty young when I saw the first Bourne film, starring Matt Damon, but I was too old to be gripped by the obsessive desire to be Jason Bourne and the conviction that he was the actual ideal human being, which is exactly what happened. I knew it was far-fetched, but spent a lot of time trying to believe it wasn't. Well, my reaction to reading the book may be basically the same. Ludlum's prose is fanatically gripping, an action film played across the mind. I'm not through with it, but I think it's safe to recommend.
This natural history club, begun by some wonderful mamas, most of whom I have the pleasure of knowing. It's a fantastic idea and looks fabulously fun. I wish there had been something similar when I was little. Plus, their nature expeditions are based (so far) in South Mountains State Park, one of my favorite places in the world. What's not to love?
And last but not least, beach memories. I was looking forward to some sandy salty ocean lounging this weekend, and then I was helpfully reminded by about a dozen people that it's a holiday and all of Wilmington will be overrun by out-of-towners. I say with all the love I can muster, as a frequent out-of-towner myself: there is nothing more annoying than a beach packed with pale tense vacationers and their spawn. Sorry. So I may just be browsing beach pictures as opposed to the real thing, who can tell.
And that's what I'm thinking about this Friday.
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