I’m in the glider, watching the Brewers (up 1-0), digging the cold and grey of a rainy Sunday afternoon. This morning Ross and I hit the coffee shop and talked for ninety minutes or so. He thought I was approaching him with a business proposal. Er, no. I’m not that ambitious. Later I lifted weights, cleaned, did the elliptical, and ate enough pizza to balance out the elliptical. I’ve already started getting everything ready for tomorrow. If I organize my clothes, lunch, backpack, etc. for Monday morning I sleep better Sunday night. And you should never, ever, listen to me closely here, never ever engage in social activity on Sunday nights. That’s just wrong. Take it easy. Quiet. You know what I mean.

Last night we took in the symphony. Beforehand we ate dinner at a restaurant near Beans and Barley (I can’t remember the name, but the restaurant was too hip for me, everyone in black like they’re waiting for their big break in film). We stopped at the beautiful lake Alterra’s for coffee/hot chocolate then cut northwest to the symphony parking garage. M wasn’t feeling particularly well, maybe the wings she ate threw her, so we didn’t stay for the entire symphony program. No big deal. I had heard the Brahms before.

Yesterday I finished the Hamsun and started a re-read of Demons. Oh, I watched Rockarolla, too.

So how am I doing? Pretty well. I feel slightly in a holding pattern, waiting for the semester to start, looking for another creative outlet. I’m not under duress, I think, but I’m a little tense with inactivity. But I can breathe through it. In a good way. Maybe I’m in a period of calm and not sure what to do with it. Maybe I should just crash on the couch and just feel good about Sunday. Why not?