Have been waking up frequently during recent nights, the world outside quiet. Sometimes the faint sour tang of skunk hangs in the air, sometimes moonlight slants in through the window in the flat's little bitty bathroom. Sometimes my head jerks up off the pillow, my eyes open, the first thing I hear is the apartment's refrigerator producing major racket. (First time it did that, I thought there must be a utility truck parked outside the building dealing with early-hour emergency work. As it turned out: Utility truck, no. Refrigerator, yes.)
I slept well during June, my bod re-energizing maybe after the long slog of the previous year. Now that batteries have been recharged, I'm feeling the restlessness that is a part of my current state, finding myself somewhere I don't fully want to be, ready to move on, inflict myself on friends in other parts of the world, see new scenery, scare up new adventures.
Have spent hours every day in my teeny office, pounding away at the keyboard or escaping online. Evenings have mostly been about food, DVD's, skipping out to a movie. (Made the mistake of wading into the DVD set for In Treatment's first season, by the time I realized how addictive it is I was too far along to pull out. Some outrageously great acting in supporting roles.) The hours slide by, days and nights flicker past.
Several evenings after returning from Montreal, had nightmares all night long. Woke up from the first ones, slipped back to sleep into more. That continued until I dragged myself out of bed the following a.m. I never have nightmares -- the rare occasion when I find one happening, it's clear that it's a message from me to me about something that's provoking lots of feelings. In this case, an affirmation of restlessness, unease. I made a point of turning my thoughts away from them on waking, had no desire to remember anything about them. Just let 'em go, returned to waking life.
And waking life has some pretty sweet aspects. Summer in beautiful Vermont. A small town with a lot to enjoy. Potential adventures looming ahead. Not to mention the annual July 4th parade, a quirky affair in this town, goofily inclusive of just about every group that wants to take part. Including the secessionist contingent. There's room for everyone.
Sign to the extreme left reads 200 YEARS IS LONG ENOUGH
Recent moments:
-- sitting on a bench in front of the county courthouse, shoveling down a stupendous bowl of curry thrown together by a couple operating a Thai food cart.
-- passing a mother pushing a stroller -- mother scowling, child's expression one of continued surprise (if my 'rents had given me the mohawk haircut he sported, I'd be looking pretty damn surprised too).
-– sitting on the steps in front of the Statehouse in the evening, sun drifting lower in the western sky, breeze causing the state flag clips to clang quietly against the metal flagpole. Sounding like the faint ringing of a buoy's signal bell, as if the town had somehow drifted east over the countryside, coming to rest near coastal water.
This coming weekend will bring a road trip. Yeeee-haaa!
España, te echo de menos
rws 5:21 PM [+]
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