How was your weekend? Did you get out and enjoy the fresh air? Did you snowboard or ski in the marvelous winter snow that’s sure to have fallen where you live? Did you get together with friends or see any good movies? My deepest hope is that one of you had something of interest to do because I spent my weekend with my butt faithfully glued to the couch making my way through some books. I started and finished a book about Shakespeare, written by one of my favorite writers Bill Bryson, and am well underway in the book Rumspringa, about the life of Amish teenagers.
And that’s it. I’d feel bad about it only if the weather were nice. Fortunately, to suit my laziness, the weather has done nothing but rain and thunder. I haven’t once seen direct sunlight or blue sky since Friday. These days it’s been so cool outside that I wear jackets and jeans and barely break a sweat. Right now, for instance, I’m sitting on the couch wrapped up in a blanket I stole from Dennis and a long-sleeved shirt. A breeze is blowing through the open window, and I had to close the porch door for fear of the rain splashing into the living room like it does on stormy days.
In any case, this is my last weekend of utter freedom before I go back to work. I spent it alone and totally silent. I’m not wallowing in self-pity, don’t worry; I’m just telling it like it is. I feel good about having read so much, having caught up on sleep, and having spent a good deal of time talking with Dennis.
Oh, and speaking of Dennis, he starts another film job tomorrow! And so that makes our telephone time together this weekend even more worthwhile considering once this job of his starts, if the last job is any indication, the next time I’ll talk to him will be sometime late April. I exaggerate, of course. I’m so happy for him and for this great opportunity, but much like I’m sure he feels for me and my opportunities, it’s a bitter-sweet happiness. I’m happy in Brazil, he’s happy working on film. But our jobs keep us apart from one another. Ah, well, eighteen months in and we’re old pros at this long-distance thing. It’s not forever, and I need to remind myself of that.