recoveringmale

I had the most wonderful day today. Worked at 5 am, and it went well right up until I was about to leave, when another encounter with my bitchy supervisor brought me down rather hard. When I got to Rains house I was well on my way to being depressed and pissed and generally unhappy, fearing that work had ruined my mood for the perfect day to spend outside reading. The weather was unbelievable in Portland today, and stayed that way throughout my shift as I gazed out the windows waiting to clock out. We drove back to my place and sat for a while, and I stewed a bit more. Spent a half hour or so geeking it out taking those quizilla tests, finding out which characters we are from various universes. No matter how many different LotR tests we took, she was always an elf; I a hobbit. She was G'kar and I Luke Skywalker. She Maureen Dowd, I Paul Krugman (right). We both agreed that Pippin is most fitting, with my personality and proclivity for disastrous and often incredibly unlikely acts of clumsiness. Truly, I am almost an idiot savant in my ability to cause some form of calamity wherever I go. Finally, we got out of the house and headed to Juniors for some potatoes. Then with books, blanket and water in hand, we walked over to Ladds Addition and stretched out on the grass in the shade and read for a while. Stretching out on my childhood blanket, the sky clear blue. I felt more content and peaceful than I have in a long time. How often do you find yourself in a place where everything seems to be just perfect? When it comes, all you can do is lay there and be thankful that you are alive, at least for these moments. The weather, the surroundings, the good company, lying on our backs under the sun; her with her book and me with the first of the Preacher series. There is a little coffeehouse out there next to the main circle, not sure the name, but I went to use the bathroom (and of course, buy some utterly decadent chocolate) and they were playing Nick Drake when I went in. Talked with the girl at the counter about how great he was, she was just getting into him his voice, so ghostly and sweet, followed me as I walked out the door with a piece of 7th Heaven torte. We ate it happily, then lay there reading as the afternoon went by; eventually my early rise got to me, and we both fell asleep there under the shade of the bushes, sleeping soundly in the open air; people walking by once in a while, but we slept uninterrupted out there on the grass. I dont remember the last time I did that. An hour later we awoke, decided to read a bit longer, then packed up our stuff and went back to my place. We watched Tom Jones. I felt more present and more alive being there with her than I have in days, if not longer.