2004-11-08 - 7:37 p.m.
I came home and realized that I dread an empty house almost as much as I dread coming home to them. In the rustle of my coat, gym bag, thermos, purse, and whatever else I was lugging up the stairs I heard the laughter of a man and woman. On the landing I would have sworn I heard the distinct whine of my dog, at which point I determined to yell the spooks out of me, but it probably came out more as a sqeak knowing my timid voice.
My stomach not feeling well, I brought the pu-erh tea pot from off my shelf where it was collecting dust and used it unashamedly. Here was something I could rejoice: partaking in my peculiar, comfortable habits.
So I sit with my cup of tea researching upcoming events at the state college, for I hear they have notable theater and dance departments. In marking down the events I want to see, I grew excited for life.
It does not take much, I realize, to look forward to living the next day. I am very excited about the church I am attending this week starting with an evening service Wednesday, then a concert Saturday, and back again Sunday morning. It is not the kind of church I thought I would seek out, but in many ways I feel it sought out me, so I am going, and I can hardly wait.
Just as I can hardly wait to see The Icredibles, or for the next phase in my dance class to begin in two weeks, or for the Mesa Reparatory Dance Concert, or to climb Mt. Garfield if we have a warm weekend after Thanksgiving, or for January when I can take a web-design class at the college because I feel I need to develop that skill, or to bake something tasty for the office--a little pick-me-up.
So I begin to smile again and laugh at the saga of my friend for the most dramatic decline of an invitation to dinner, and thank God that, as usual, every opportunity I had fell flat as a pancake before it began.
