Let's not wait till the water runs dry

I know it hasn't been story time since I was in the center of the universe last week. I did make it home, for those of you who have been wondering. It was a small miracle I suppose, given that apparently Air Canada had a rash of mechanical problems that week. The trip home was good and uneventful. Actually, it was down right enjoyable. For two and a half hours I was suspended between all the good memories of the trip and all the good feelings of returning home. It was the same happy feeling I have on a Saturday morning when I wake up from some wonderful dream but know that I can stay in bed for a little longer before I need to start my day.

The rain arrived on Friday and stuck around pretty much the whole weekend. On Thursday I had decided to visit the library in search of some contemporary non-fiction. I didn't care about the topic--politics, environmental issues, important personalities--I just wanted to get lost in a well researched yet well explained argument. It's something I haven't done by choice well, perhaps ever. I picked up a book on the world water crisis as well as one on the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms. I started the water book on Thursday, put it down for a while because it had a terribly dry(ha ha) start, but picked it up again on Saturday and haven't put it down much since. Reading about a water crisis while being confined to the indoors because of a downpour is an interesting predicament. (I have been singing Boys II Men Water Runs Dry for the past three days.)

On Saturday afternoon I was checking my e-mail when I noticed someone online who I haven't talked to in quite some time. I stared at the little green light beside his name for a while. Do I say hi? If I do, what do I say next? Do I have any interesting news? What would he find interesting anyway? What on earth do we have in common anymore? I was just about to open a chat window when he beat me to it. "Meep." he said, just like old times. I still fumbled through the conversation, searching for the right thing to say that would keep the moment going, afraid to say the wrong thing that would lead to a dead silence and one of us giving in by saying, "well, I should get going". It was an annoying, awkward, stressful, short conversation but a definite highlight of the weekend. I spend my whole life surrounding myself with people who make me feel comfortable. There's something I find enticing about being in the company of this person who is interesting yet makes me feel like I'm constantly trying to do a handstand on a tightrope in my pajamas.

Since then I've spent my free waking hours reading my book outside in the warm sweet sunshine, only stopping to watch of course, The Hour (and write this blog, which was hard to do knowing that there was still a good hour left of sun to catch, but alas, I have missed my audience.) There will be many stories to tell soon, but until then I may not check in with much frequency. I'm outside soaking in the sun. I suggest you go do the same.