The power just went out and for a second, I was a pessimist. They’ll never get it back on in this little town. Some places don’t even have flush toilets. And then I was ashamed of myself for being so pissed off and disappointed by a lack of power. Seriously? But then right in the middle of my anger and self-pity and shame, the power came back on. And that was all it took. Now I’m happy.
Nah. That’s not really accurate. I’m not happy. I’m not miserable, though, and that is a giant step up from earlier this afternoon when I was going on hour 50 of constant togetherness with The Who, unpacking the car after a 3-hour drive (which came closely on the heels of Friday’s 8-hour drive) and wiping his butt/legs/feet/ankles from a poop accident (not mine.)
We woke up this morning at 5:30 in order to beat the traffic (which we did) but that got us into town at 9am, with our rental house not available until 3. At least it was a dry and sunny today. We started it at the beach, at The Who’s suggestion. I actually, come to think of it, felt amazing this morning at 9. There were at least five solid minutes of silence (more than I ever get from The Who) and the waves of the bay were rolling softly over the sand as the morning tide went out.
We seat-danced to “Cotton-Eye Joe” and “Bazooka Bubblegum” and “Hoedown Throwdown” as we coasted into town. It was kind of awesome. And the dunes are so pretty. And the water. And the people. The sky. The coffee. It was all kind of awesome this morning.
But the day wore on and on and my patience was so thin. I said to him, “I’m grouchy. I’m sorry. It’s nothing you’re doing; I’m just tired and need some quiet time.” It took me a full hour after putting him to bed to feel even a little bit not miserable.
I have higher hopes for tomorrow. Hey, the power came right back on in this little seaside town at the very end of the earth? Tomorrow could be a good day, right?