Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Ideal Day - WEbring Assignment #5
This week's assignment comes from Ms. Maryment:
"If you could spend tomorrow doing anything (the "ideal day"), what would it be?
AND
Compare/contrast this day with what your ideal day might have been 10 years ago."
All right, no bullshit about a won trial, a high powered meeting with the political elite, or winning big at off-track betting. This one's easy...
I go to bed in the next 30 (early with so many ready distractions), and get a full night rest. I awake up to the gurgling of Mr. Coffee, slats of light falling upon my down entwined slumber, NPR crackling through with stories of human fortitude, and Tuesday’s print ready to tile the dining room table. A warm shower, clean shave, and nuzzling from an unexpected guest. In short order, we hop in the car, turn up Royksopp, Damien Rice, DJ Kicks, or maybe Mama Cass, and forge a new commute that charts the congestion as it sails past it. We forge our morning drive across empty two lane roads, as far east as the roads lead (because I'm a closet beach person, something my mind hides from me for no particular reason). There we check in to a bungalow abutting the water, and rush out to be embraced by the warmth of the sun and scents of the ocean. As I lay on my back, a breeze swells, and it numbs my ability to hear what's around me. So instead I close my eyes, and I feel the sun, the wind, and his hand as he sleeps next to me. The afternoon brings a book, a block of cheese, a nap under a gentle ceiling fan. Dinner (beef, medium rare) is on a deck looking over the waves, candle lit, shorts and shirtsleeves, one bottle of wine. I am just sated following a shared desert. By 10 pm, the scene fades to black with enough time left in the day for big boy games.
10 years ago: I had just learned of such exciting things as the beach, friendships, and companionship. I would hope that I would have wished for the same thing. 10 years from now, I hope it would be the typical August Tuesday.
For more, read Friends at right:
Write Again Soon
Wish To See
A Little Meryment
Post No Bills
A Prize in Every Box
"If you could spend tomorrow doing anything (the "ideal day"), what would it be?
AND
Compare/contrast this day with what your ideal day might have been 10 years ago."
All right, no bullshit about a won trial, a high powered meeting with the political elite, or winning big at off-track betting. This one's easy...
I go to bed in the next 30 (early with so many ready distractions), and get a full night rest. I awake up to the gurgling of Mr. Coffee, slats of light falling upon my down entwined slumber, NPR crackling through with stories of human fortitude, and Tuesday’s print ready to tile the dining room table. A warm shower, clean shave, and nuzzling from an unexpected guest. In short order, we hop in the car, turn up Royksopp, Damien Rice, DJ Kicks, or maybe Mama Cass, and forge a new commute that charts the congestion as it sails past it. We forge our morning drive across empty two lane roads, as far east as the roads lead (because I'm a closet beach person, something my mind hides from me for no particular reason). There we check in to a bungalow abutting the water, and rush out to be embraced by the warmth of the sun and scents of the ocean. As I lay on my back, a breeze swells, and it numbs my ability to hear what's around me. So instead I close my eyes, and I feel the sun, the wind, and his hand as he sleeps next to me. The afternoon brings a book, a block of cheese, a nap under a gentle ceiling fan. Dinner (beef, medium rare) is on a deck looking over the waves, candle lit, shorts and shirtsleeves, one bottle of wine. I am just sated following a shared desert. By 10 pm, the scene fades to black with enough time left in the day for big boy games.
10 years ago: I had just learned of such exciting things as the beach, friendships, and companionship. I would hope that I would have wished for the same thing. 10 years from now, I hope it would be the typical August Tuesday.
For more, read Friends at right:
Write Again Soon
Wish To See
A Little Meryment
Post No Bills
A Prize in Every Box
