God I love weekends.
My Saturday started hectic, which I didn’t love. This is a big weekend in town between the Virginia Tech spring football game and the high school prom, and I wanted to get to the grocery store early before it was mobbed. I shopped before I’d even had breakfast or coffee, and by the time I made it to Panera at 8am to get an asiago bagel for our daughter and a cinnamon raisin to go with my mascarpone cheese, they were already out of all of their bagels but oats and asiago. At least I was able to get one for our daughter for prom morning.
When I got home, I arranged the flowers I’d gotten her, unloaded groceries, sat for a few minutes to read, and then was off to the pool to swim laps. I think I injured my foot on my gardening vacation. I then ran on it for a week, and then probably walked 20 miles in NYC last weekend, and now my foot is rebelling and will barely let me walk. This is a problem for me. I get cranky when I can’t exercise, mainly because I like to eat. And I swear, the older I get, the less I can eat without outgrowing my clothes. I exercise so I can eat. When I can’t exercise, I can’t eat what I want. This makes me unhappy.
I considered swimming, but the aquatic center where our daughter swims is in the next town over and is an annoying ordeal to arrange a time to swim, reserve a lane, drive over and back, blah blah blah. It is A Thing. She asked why I don’t just go to the one here in town, and honestly, it had never occurred to me to look into it. I reserved a lane easily over the phone (the other pool is always full), and when I arrived, it was all chill and easy and perfect. And, it’s only 5 minutes away. When I walked out onto the pool deck, I was transported back ten years, to one of our daughter’s first experiences with organized swimming, which had taken place at that pool. I swam my laps blissfully, and after I got out, I bought a ten-day pass and reserved lanes four days next week.
After swimming, I was kind of pooped. I haven’t swum laps in a while. Back at home, I lay down on the couch with The Artist’s Way and started reading. Some friends and I are going through the book together starting next week. Two things the author recommends that I’m eager to do are morning pages — 3 pages of longhand brain drain every morning, just to get stuff out of our heads — and artist dates with ourselves. I’m pretty excited to get started. I got all my chores done today so that I’ll have Sunday all to myself to get ready for the first week’s practices.
As I lay on the couch reading, my eyes kept trying to flutter shut. It didn’t help that my glance repeatedly wandered to our cat, curled up in my writing chair. Finally, I followed her lead. I put the book down, curled up on the couch, and let myself fall asleep.