Day 1

I woke up at the latest possible time, running to grab a shower and make my doctor's appointment, which didn't turn out so bad. I expected it to be a lot more invasive than it was, although I do have to return in a month for a follow up examination.

Afterwards, I walked slowly through Sandy Hill and, picking up a sandwich, I walked right by my apartment and straight to Strathcona Park. It was warm and I had the sidewalks to myself the whole time. I found a bench by the water and munched away, looking up and around me, but mostly listening to the faraway sounds of birds and children in the the distance. I found myself kind of wishing I could have a set of swings to sit on; there were a bunch behind me in the playground, but I deduced that I would look a bit like a weirdo, so I didn't go.

After a leisurely nap (I wasn't really that tired but found it decadent to lie around in bed) and then a chai latte downtown, I sat on a bus in rush hour and made my way to mom and dad's place. What a pleasant sunshiny end of afternoon, with my smiling parents and Julie. I had my first barbecued meal and lots of sweets afterwards.

Tonight, I watched the film Juno in bed on my laptop, then turned off most of the lights and sat on my kitchen counter with my legs stretched out, just looking outside the window in silence. Not once did anything actually happen or move outside while I watched. I realized that for once, no music would improve the mood - I was content enough. That was just a few moments ago, actually. And I thought I'd write and report back on my first day off, a quiet day with no frills, no particular excitement, but a day sprinkled with a few special moments and lots of stillness. Work has faded quickly into the background, and I'm surprised and how easily I've shed that reality for now. I only wish I had more time to wander, to sit in this stillness, to experience a park bench on a warm spring day, to have coffee with someone I love, to not worry about tasks to accomplish in the morning. A few times today I found myself smiling too broadly; I tried to prevent it because it felt a little bit foolish, but it was a nice feeling all the same.

And now, I'm in my favorite pyjama dress, drinking water from my favorite CBC mug, and I think I'm going to cap off the day with a warm bedtime shower and a few crosswords, or read from borrowed that Salman Rushdie book, which I'm still not sure I'm sold on yet. I think I might like to end this day with a line of poetry, and I consider crossing over from my bedroom to my living to pick something out, something like:

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

- W.H. Auden, "Lullaby", 1937

And I walked over to my couch and picked up the massive 3000-page Norton Anthology for English Literature (7th edition, Volume 2), and spent half an hour losing myself in passages, marking pages, reading biographies, and afterwards I crossed over from the living room to the bedroom and found a way that I preferred to end a message, and to end the night.

xo