It’s about 6:00pm.
I’ve already worked my job at the cafe, taken a nap, watched a couple episodes of Gilmore Girls while doing ab exercises and making paper roses out of The Three Musketeers for my wedding in September, and now I’m lying on my floor eating brownie batter and deciding what to do next.
I feel compelled to write a blogpost, something that’s been on my heart for a while, but that’s going to take a great amount of contemplation and, most likely, editing, before it can be published. So I start writing.
But it’s too hot. I live in an apartment on the top floor, and it feels like it must be 90 degrees outside. I look up the temperature and… yepp, 90 degrees. It’s the kind of heat where the air itself is like dragon breath all around me, sticky and distracting, and I don’t even want to move my fingers because the humidity is practically pinning me down to my chair.
I need some coffee.
So I make myself a pot of specifically weak coffee (most of the time, to use my mother’s phrasing, I “drink coffee like a cowboy,” and I could “stick a knife up in that coffee it’s so strong”–but since it’s so late I don’t want to be up all night). I lovingly guzzle down my first cup, making some headway in the post I’m constructing, and then decide I need a second.
I walk back into the kitchen to pour myself another, but suddenly realize that I need a little music to spice up this ridiculously hot, too-silent, sunshine-casting-prison-bar-shadows-on-the-carpet, I’m-more-tired-AFTER-my-nap, afternoon. So I pull up YouTube. Search my go-to happy song. It starts, and next thing I know I’m dancing around my apartment in my boxers and tank top, flailing the coffee pot this way and that between its journey from the machine to my cup as I belt out all the lyrics to this bad boy:
I can’t tell you how much joy I get from this song, nor how glad I was that no one else was home as I danced around like a jazzed up, showtunes madwoman. But I take heart in knowing that most all of us secretly have those songs where we can’t help but leap around singing into our hairbrush or broom handle as we clean, completely devoid of any self-consciousness as we get that splendorous rush of happiness listening to our favorite songs. It’s that energetic, go-getter mentality that best helps fuel me up in preparation for more writing to come, and as the song ends I feel recharged and ready to take on the writing again.
Not to mention, seeing as it’s Pridefest here in Seattle, AND the US Supreme Court just ruled that same-sex marriage is legal nationwide, I thought it apt to be rejoicing as an ally with the LGBT community with Don’t Rain On My Parade–as now I’m sure no one could possibly rain on theirs! ;D
Happy weekend, everybody!