I knew, almost before opening my eyes, that it was going to be one of those days. I’d just woken myself up from a dream about a house of ill repute in Woodbridge, Connecticut, that looked a little bit like how I imagine the backwoods Appalachain towns looking like. In my dream, I was questioning one of the “employees” about whether or not she really liked her job and wouldn’t she rather do something else to make a living? She ended up driving me around and showing me the town, that looked an awful lot like Watch Hill, Rhode Island, and so it was that I woke up more confused and tired from the experience than ready to start my day. Couple that dream with the fact that the morning began with a downpour and hasn’t really stopped all day, and what you’ve got is a grumpy girl who would rather stay in bed and read a book, than wake up, take a shower, go to work, and get kids to spell the word “beginning” correctly. But it is what it is, and now I have an afternoon of meetings that I’m just dying to go to.
The only saving grace of the day so far is that I began reading a new book called “Pocketful of Names” by Joe Coomer. It takes place in Maine, and so all day today my mind has been drifting back to my summers there. I’ve been daydreaming about what life would be like to live on one of those islands off the coast, and have seriously considered giving everything up and moving to a little cottage where I can write out the rest of my days, growing a garden and pulling in cool pieces of driftwood from the ocean, just like Hannah the main character.
And then I remember my profound love for Starbucks and Target and this store and think I’m maybe a little too materialistic for life on an island, and while there’s no real shame in admitting that, I’m feeling shameful about it anyway. It really is one of those days.