I saw a familiar face in the park; I couldn't remember her name, but she was approaching. It was early afternoon and I was lounging around some picnic tables; in the distance her gentle eyes looking at me, walking my way. I noticed something on the table covered in aluminum foil, the remnants of a small gathering, perhaps. I was curious but I didn't have time to poke around because she arrived sooner than I expected. She told me it was a Jewish holiday and this was food to eat; then she gestured (with a sweeping hand) for me to enjoy. I was hungry and excited about the feast, but I don't recall tasting what appeared to be a creamy pasta salad. Heather, that was her name; we met in 2000 on the TV show "Madigan Men" which was produced in NYC at Kaufman Astoria Studios. Heather was a writer's assistant. She was always nice. It was Heather that offered me the food. Soon after she arrived: I awakened. I looked outside my bedroom door and tried to guess what time it was, the quality of the light; I had no idea, I didn't really care, but I knew I was happy and relieved that I finally got that good sleep, which is my number one self-care goal at the moment.
I attribute my delicious rest to a few things. First, I only had three hours of sleep the night before; I closed my eyes at 3am and woke up at 6, then I stayed in bed for two hours reading Trust by Hernan Diaz. I thought I would doze off after several chapters of incredible financial success followed by crushing personal loss but I dreaded the thought of waking up at 3 or 4pm and having to restart my sleep cycle again. So I begrudgingly got out of bed, but at least I was happy to look out my window and see people doing morning things, like the police on horseback patrolling the trails of Woodberry. You see, I had recently texted my friend Jesse and asked when his household awakened. Rise at 7, shine at 8. Ok, that was my new goal, to wake up at 7am so I could be social with my San Antonio family. Jesse and his wife Julie recently bought me a Southwest Airlines ticket to visit them for a week in early April to watch the solar eclipse in Kerrville which meant I had around six weeks to get my sleep schedule correct. But today I woke at 11am, hungry with thoughts of pasta salad glossy in the sun, which was a bit of a letdown in regards to the hour, but I knew I was making up for the previous night of near sleeplessness so I wasn't really mad, in fact, I was thrilled to feel this alive and positive and the only thing on my mind was a fresh cup of coffee: a delicious medium roast from Mom's called Dawn Patrol (DP). As I walked into the kitchen and greeted my Chemex I reflected on my buoyancy and was thinking my new haircut followed by the nice hot shower I took last night probably contributed to my heavenly slumbers, along with my prolonged yoga session with all the doors and windows wide open to air out the cooking smells from the apartment below despite it being just 28 degrees outside. I was still dressed in the four mitigating layers of various types of fabric (cotton, microfibers and a baja hoodie) as I vigorously stirred dark chocolate and raw honey into my pint of DP while admiring the inside of my refrigerator which I had thoroughly cleaned the day before chased by a solid hour trying to figure out how to reinstall the shelving and the crispers. But today—nothing but sparkling glass and shiny apple skins, a loaf of sourdough begging to be grilled cheese and a glistening jar of sliced kosher dills. Yes, I had worked myself into a tizzy yesterday, yet I haven't mentioned the best thing I did, the one prescient moment that might have morphed my pathological nightmares of disorganization into thoughts of Heather's smiling face: sending an email to my friend DML asking if the trip to DC in late April (to admire the orchids) was still on the table, which was a long shot considering she moved out of our apartment 48 days ago, but the mere inquiry lifted a sadness that had been lingering for weeks.
My mind and body was at peace, for the moment, and tomorrow I might set my sights on 7am, but for now I would sip my coffee and enjoy the sounds of garbage bins emptying on the streets.
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