Friday, November 18, 2005
My Day Off
Alarm goes off at 7 but I don't hear it til 7:15. My husband gets up and goes to take a shower. Cosmo jumps on bed. Back to sleep. About 3 months ago I became physically unable to get out of bed at 7 after getting up at 7 for as long as I can remember.
7:45, out of bed, throw on clothes, put Cosmo in the car, drive to Petco. Drop off Cosmo for grooming. Growing up my dogs got baths about once a year, and they were in the driveway with a hose and some soap. My husband grew up with a poodle and insists on taking Cosmo for "the works" (shampoo, conditioner, etc) every few months. I usually make him do it because Cosmo hates it so much, I feel like I'm leaving him in a torture chamber, even though the staff is incredibly friendly and professional; but my husband wants Cosmo looking his best for our housewarming party tomorrow night, so I do it to make him happy.
8:15, I'm writing in coffee shop, and my husband calls: we forgot to leave one of the doors unlocked for the painters. Back in the car, drive home, unlock door, drive back to coffee shop, resume writing.
9:45, run misc. errands within walking distance of Petco.
10:00 Cosmo is done. He is so freaked from his grooming experience that he rejects a treat; this is like Homer Simpson rejecting a beer. We take a walk and the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I am thrilled not to be at work. By the end of our walk Cosmo's tail is wagging.
10:30 Cosmo and I are homeward bound. Putter around at home.
Noon - yoga. I can't remember the last time I went; it was definitely before the move, so it's been at least 2 months. It felt heavenly. Bought a sparkly black skirt on my way out from the yoga studio's "boutique." I always feel guilty when I buy clothes, like it's an incredible extravagence.
1:30 - Buy 2 potted plants and some flowers. Poke into random stores. Feels gross to be spending money. I'm not cheap but spending my time shopping makes me feel like a shallow consumer.
2:30 - Buy myself a tempeh sandwich and a cup of coffee at Busboys and Poets. At first I'm bummed I don't have my laptop b/c I see they have free wireless, and I've been wanting to blog, plus there are a few things I want to look up online. I decide this is an opportunity to detach from media and just be present in my surroundings. I force myself not to buy a newspaper or magazine to read while I eat, and instead I people watch and daydream. It's hard to let myself do nothing but there's something so luxurious about it, too. I soak up details.
3:15 -As I'm walking from Busboys and Poets towards U St., a man says, "How are you?" and I say, "Fine, thank you" as I pass, and he yells after me, "Fuck that!" Then as I approach U St. I see I'm about to miss the light so I start to run, and another man yells "That's right, run away, you're afraid of what might happen if you're back here with me." I remember when my friend Emily and I were in Georgetown once in high school and as we passed a homeless woman she snarled, "Democratic sluts!"
3:30 Duck into a few vintage shops looking for a sweater. Vintage clothing used to creep me out - the thought of being in clothes that were on someone else's body - but now it's so refreshing to see different shapes, colors, & fabrics than what you see everywhere else.
4:15 Home to a very happy dog. Petting ensues.
4:16 I'm in the basement, and the door to the main level is closed, and the painters are upstairs, so when I go to the bathroom to pee, I leave the door open, and then I look up and see one of the painters rounding the bend from the stairs, and I quickly shut the door. I feel like Bridget Jones.
4:18 Cosmo and I go for a walk. He eats a discarded chicken bone before I can stop him.
4:40 We come in through the front door and I say hi to the painter like nothing happened.
4:45 Back to the basement to write. Might take a nap.
Whenever I take the day off, I'm struck by how much richer the day feels - how much more expansive - even when nothing remarkable happens.
7:45, out of bed, throw on clothes, put Cosmo in the car, drive to Petco. Drop off Cosmo for grooming. Growing up my dogs got baths about once a year, and they were in the driveway with a hose and some soap. My husband grew up with a poodle and insists on taking Cosmo for "the works" (shampoo, conditioner, etc) every few months. I usually make him do it because Cosmo hates it so much, I feel like I'm leaving him in a torture chamber, even though the staff is incredibly friendly and professional; but my husband wants Cosmo looking his best for our housewarming party tomorrow night, so I do it to make him happy.
8:15, I'm writing in coffee shop, and my husband calls: we forgot to leave one of the doors unlocked for the painters. Back in the car, drive home, unlock door, drive back to coffee shop, resume writing.
9:45, run misc. errands within walking distance of Petco.
10:00 Cosmo is done. He is so freaked from his grooming experience that he rejects a treat; this is like Homer Simpson rejecting a beer. We take a walk and the sun is shining, the sky is blue, and I am thrilled not to be at work. By the end of our walk Cosmo's tail is wagging.
10:30 Cosmo and I are homeward bound. Putter around at home.
Noon - yoga. I can't remember the last time I went; it was definitely before the move, so it's been at least 2 months. It felt heavenly. Bought a sparkly black skirt on my way out from the yoga studio's "boutique." I always feel guilty when I buy clothes, like it's an incredible extravagence.
1:30 - Buy 2 potted plants and some flowers. Poke into random stores. Feels gross to be spending money. I'm not cheap but spending my time shopping makes me feel like a shallow consumer.
2:30 - Buy myself a tempeh sandwich and a cup of coffee at Busboys and Poets. At first I'm bummed I don't have my laptop b/c I see they have free wireless, and I've been wanting to blog, plus there are a few things I want to look up online. I decide this is an opportunity to detach from media and just be present in my surroundings. I force myself not to buy a newspaper or magazine to read while I eat, and instead I people watch and daydream. It's hard to let myself do nothing but there's something so luxurious about it, too. I soak up details.
3:15 -As I'm walking from Busboys and Poets towards U St., a man says, "How are you?" and I say, "Fine, thank you" as I pass, and he yells after me, "Fuck that!" Then as I approach U St. I see I'm about to miss the light so I start to run, and another man yells "That's right, run away, you're afraid of what might happen if you're back here with me." I remember when my friend Emily and I were in Georgetown once in high school and as we passed a homeless woman she snarled, "Democratic sluts!"
3:30 Duck into a few vintage shops looking for a sweater. Vintage clothing used to creep me out - the thought of being in clothes that were on someone else's body - but now it's so refreshing to see different shapes, colors, & fabrics than what you see everywhere else.
4:15 Home to a very happy dog. Petting ensues.
4:16 I'm in the basement, and the door to the main level is closed, and the painters are upstairs, so when I go to the bathroom to pee, I leave the door open, and then I look up and see one of the painters rounding the bend from the stairs, and I quickly shut the door. I feel like Bridget Jones.
4:18 Cosmo and I go for a walk. He eats a discarded chicken bone before I can stop him.
4:40 We come in through the front door and I say hi to the painter like nothing happened.
4:45 Back to the basement to write. Might take a nap.
Whenever I take the day off, I'm struck by how much richer the day feels - how much more expansive - even when nothing remarkable happens.
