I left work Wednesday evening when the sun was up, and after my hour-long commute home, I reached my neighborhood and night had fallen. Kids were everywhere. I saw a Superman, a lot of princesses, two boys wearing impressive blow-up dinosaur costumes. It was the warmest day of the week. I almost regretted not joining Alistair in his neighborhood for the annual Halloween street-party.
It is common small talk to say, "I can't believe it's already [insert holiday here]" and I found myself saying that about Halloween. The idea that time is cyclical made me sad on my way home. The things that bother me year after year may continue to come back, to never end. I have lots of normal, productive days. I also have many days where the ritual makes me angry.
Lately, I've indulged in a temporary cure. At my apartment I settled on the sofa, opened my computer and began my latest diversion: summer travel and event plans. Ever since I was a little girl there was one special event I've always wanted to attend. It isn't held in the US, which is half the reason I haven't gone already. That night I delved into the details and tried to make it a reality with handwritten lists and ideas. It was almost as nice as relaxing with a cocktail. Having something to day dream excitedly about keeps me happy enough. When things go wrong I imagine future me at future place during future time, and I forget everything. This was my work week in a nutshell: work, home, work, home -- but with excitement on the evenings.
The weekend came faster than expected. Alistair and I decided to have Japanese breakfast at Okonomi in Williamsburg. The warm weather we had on Wednesday and Thursday dipped back down into the 50s; I grimaced as the wind whipped up around us on our walk to the restaurant. Okonomi is a quaint place, only enough tables for ten guests, and all of them were taken. The hostess told us about their new "policy" -- $20 upfront to hold a spot on the waitlist -- we forked over $20 and spent the next few hours grumbling. Alistair went and got a haircut, then we walked around the neighborhood waiting on our table to become available. In a hardware store we said hello to an African grey parrot and in the garden saw a pig sleeping in his pen.
Unexpectedly, one of my old friends was in town for a wedding and asked if I could grab dinner. We met at 7 pm at Cafe Cluny, one of the many cute places in West Village. It was nice to catch up and feel like I was "out on the town" on a Saturday night. After dinner I waited on the platform for the C train to meet Alistair. There was the typical delay, so I watched the pairs of people passing by and I looked at myself and felt quite gross in comparison. Another week was coming up, and I worried that my evening diversions wouldn't stave off my usual apprehension or my insecurities. What's next?