mid-morning: coffee & grapefruit
when i got home last night, i tipped the measured triad of white capsules into my hand, swallowing them dry & tumbling into bed. melatonin is tame in terms of sleeping medication, but i don't like the corpse-heavy feeling that it leaves, not being able to wake myself in the morning. feathery dreams of stirring honey into your tea, hide-and-seek in hayfields are suddenly replaced with traveling trombone cases, anvils, elephants. but i slept through the night, and for the first time in weeks, i don't feel four-in-the-morning overdrawn.
l. and i had dinner at a cafe on baldwin street (with a gift certificate & carafe of red wine), dressed up in our summer best & adding cardigan layers when it got cold. tea-candles & christmas lights, pistachio sauce & a salad of warm chevre, creme brulee made from the recipe in claude monet's journals & chocolate banana torte. we found a box of lps discarded on the sidewalk (our favourite is a band named 'zon,' 1981), recited poems by john donne, brainstormed essay topics for a shakespeare summer class. we had easy catching-up conversations about grad-school & boys & being trapped between places. i went home on the midnight subway feeling organized, heading for magnificent somethings. sated.
i have a dental check-up this afternoon, but afterwards i am going to find an out-of-the-way cafe & finish 'tropic of cancer.' tonite: ice-cream plans & a king's birthday party in the west end. also, i've been writing again, transferring the stories that have shuffled round for months into words. i will be home in two weeks!
l. and i had dinner at a cafe on baldwin street (with a gift certificate & carafe of red wine), dressed up in our summer best & adding cardigan layers when it got cold. tea-candles & christmas lights, pistachio sauce & a salad of warm chevre, creme brulee made from the recipe in claude monet's journals & chocolate banana torte. we found a box of lps discarded on the sidewalk (our favourite is a band named 'zon,' 1981), recited poems by john donne, brainstormed essay topics for a shakespeare summer class. we had easy catching-up conversations about grad-school & boys & being trapped between places. i went home on the midnight subway feeling organized, heading for magnificent somethings. sated.
i have a dental check-up this afternoon, but afterwards i am going to find an out-of-the-way cafe & finish 'tropic of cancer.' tonite: ice-cream plans & a king's birthday party in the west end. also, i've been writing again, transferring the stories that have shuffled round for months into words. i will be home in two weeks!
1 comment:
Do you love tropic of cancer? I need to know. This may affect our sisterhood. Just kidding. But only sorta.
Speaking of, I had a dream with you last night where you saved me from falling permanently into another dimension by reminding me to eat the yellow pill to get back home. Of course, in my dream I spent a lot of time wondering what 'home' meant, death? or the dream? or my bedroom in PV? or Canada? too much philosophizing for a dream within a dream. I guess it is all a metaphor. So where's my yellow pill? PS I miss you.
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