Perhaps because we changed the clocks back to Real Time last night [daylight "savings" time is a pet peeve], I am having the most luxurious, languid Sunday. Woke up on my own, before 7, and it was light out. I could see the marvel of our yard, the morning light on Jasper's stone across from our room. Mr Burns was curled up between us on the bed. I felt fine.
When's the last time I felt fine on awakening?
Seriously, a long time.
Just felt fine. Great. Slight buzz of a headache and sore as hell from yoga. But fine.
In other words: happy.
Had breakfast with Joe, then off he went to ride for hours. Mr Burns had his first experience of the Roomba (strong dislike). He curled up on the ottoman in the sun. I sat in the big chair next to him and read, for hours, enjoying coffee #2 which somehow, inexplicably, tasted better than it had in days. Just so rich, complex on the tongue, excellent.
At a certain point, I looked up from my book and had no idea what day it was. I sat there for a minute convinced it was a weekday, that I'd called in sick just to have a chance to savor being in the dazzle of my home in the morning. The moment just had that feeling of standing suspended outside the rush of everything. Then slowly, Sunday came shimmering back.
What? That just doesn't happen. That I lost track of where we are on the calendar, of where I stand precisely on the rocketing-forward momentum of my trajectory through time, now THAT is something, something really good. The total ease of that moment, my comfort in the chair, the sun on Mr Burns' gorgeous sable coat -- perfection.
And then puppy stretched and turned and, as I thought he might, tumbled from the ottoman onto the carpeted floor at my feet. Then stretched some more and yawned merely as an excuse to close his teeth around my ankle. So we went for a walk, still inside this sparkly little bubble outside of time, me and the dog enjoying Sunday in all its glory.
I can't shake the feeling that I did something really right to bring me to this day, to this sensation, to this amnesia of the day's name. At some point, when I shake off the glamour, I'll try and reconstruct the recipe, see if I can't reproduce this delicious dream. In the meantime, just completely inside it, relishing every moment.