My brain is totally fried. It’s only Monday and it took me three attempts to type the word “fried.” Both times. I’m exhausted. I’m working a lot. But I had an absolutely fantastic weekend, even though I worked on Saturday, so I am not complaining.
Last week Mike left for Los Angeles for his nephew’s high school graduation. The kid is graduating Valedictorian, after all. I’ll admit I was a little nervous about him going away for a long trip and me being all by my lonesome. And I know it’s ridiculous considering I live with five animals in an enormous apartment building in the middle of New York City. If there is anything I couldn’t possibly be, it’s alone. Even if I didn’t have the animals, you can’t go anywhere in this city without being pressed up against a hundred other sweaty bodies, so being alone is not an issue here. But I do not like when we are separated. I feel like I’m missing a limb.
And of course the rain didn’t help.
There is nothing like rain to make a barely-holding-her-shit-together gal totally lose it. But you know what? It was only for a day. He left Tuesday morning, I spent the day feeling miserable and sorry for myself, and then on Wednesday I got my ass back to work and I have been hustling ever since. I miss him, I really ache for him, but I have been totally o.k. I’ve even been eating my vegetables!
Friday morning I got up an hour early so I could take the dogs to the park while the sun was out. Those little poop-eating beasts bring me so much happiness, I cannot even begin to explain it. Sometimes I worry that I won’t love them anymore when I have babies. Like, there won’t be enough left over for them. And then I know that’s not true, I know I have enough room in my heart for everyone.
Saturday I worked, and afterwards Adam picked me up in his little blue bug and swept me off to Astoria for a slumber party with Joe, Christine and Breya and oh my god, you guys, it was amazing. There was pizza, and prosecco, and an Audrey Hepburn flick. We played dress-up and talked about clothes and we even made ice cream sundaes.
Sunday morning we lounged around in our jammies, watching the news. I cannot believe the oil spill. I cannot believe this is happening and we’ve let it go on and on for fifty-six days now. The consequences of this disaster will be felt by our great-great grandchildren. It makes me sick. It makes me not want to give birth to more children, because it makes me think I don’t want to bring another life into this world. It makes me thinks “What’s the point of living when our future is so horribly bleak?” Which is why I don’t watch the news and why I haven’t known anything about this oil spill, except that it happened, until now, because these things terrify me to the extent that if I pay too close attention I will implode. Call me socially irresponsible, I don’t care. I’ve got to take care of my sanity.
So we turned off the TV and we went to Central Park. We had cocktails and tapas at the Loeb Boathouse, which is without a doubt, my absolute favorite restaurant in New York City. We sat on the patio and we sipped mimosas because life is too damn short to spend the afternoon in a black hole of despair when you could be sipping mimosas. It started to rain just as we were getting ready to leave the restaurant, but it felt so lovely and we were so cheerful that Adam and I decided to walk barefoot through the park, while Joe watched in horror.
“Take your shoes off! The grass feels lovely under your feet.”
“Until you step on a hypodermic needle. No way. I’m keeping my shoes on.”
“You guys are crazy.”
Then I called him a stuffed shirt, because that’s what Corey calls Paul when he refuses to walk barefoot in the park with her. But Joe, in case you’re reading this, your whole stuffed shirt thing is part of what makes you so irresistibly charming. Yesterday wouldn’t have been the same without you.
We walked and we walked and it rained and it rained and it was heavenly. When I closed my eyes it was as if we were monkey people living in a wild jungle. (I have a wonderful imagination.) We found ourselves in the middle of a giant field and we stashed our stuff under a tree and and played frisbee. Rather, Adam and I played frisbee while Joe smoked cigarettes under his umbrella. And by the way, if you’ve never played frisbee in the middle of Central Park in the pouring rain, I highly recommend it. It was absolutely spectacular and absolutely worth the soaking wet train ride home.
Adam: “Give me a hug.”
Joe: “Nooo! I’m wearing dry clean only!”