Trying to be the best you can be
Late yesterday afternoon, I was exhausted and much in need of a respite, so I drew a bath of cool water and put in a bath bomb – these bath salts things that O had given me for my birthday – they are either about sex or love or lust – and each bomb is different – last nights was an orange blossom and cardamon scent with real orange blossoms that floated disconcertedly in the water and a love poem which appeared after the entire thing dissolved. It was a poem by Lord Byron about wanting.
I tried to make myself be very still so that I could find my center gravity – I think since I orbit so quickly around my center that when I slow down it actually feels like I get further from it. I thought I might be getting there when I closed my eyes but then the phone rang, then the doorbell, and within the next twenty minutes there were visitors sitting on the porch drinking wine (I kept to my ice tea) and chit chatting.
I just took another deep breath and went with it – Loca was being loved on, Arlene was being kissed on, and canines and humans were all trying to stave off the inevitable – Monday morning.