Monday, April 6, 2015

Spontaneous Pie

The moon followed me home tonight.

After more than four hours in a side room at Perkin's (see also: Denny's), I closed up my laptop and began the trek back to my apartment. I had left in the late afternoon to get something to eat and take a break from my thumpy upstairs neighbors, who were home from vacation and slamming doors like it was their job.

I ran a couple errands and then began winging my way out of downtown and its accompanying Final Four bustle. I had no specific destination besides a Starbucks where I could set up shop for a couple hours. I had writing-related tasks to get done and figured a latte would fuel me through what I had been putting off.

As I drove, I had a long overdue phone chat with a friend I rarely get to see in person. Before I knew it, I was half an hour outside the city, out where the stop signs have been replaced by roundabouts and the houses are double-take big (grande, venti, trenta, holy Jesus!). I headed south, winging my way through unfamiliar neighborhoods, and eventually parked in a Walmart parking lot down the street from my high school. The sun was quickly setting and my nearly two-hour conversation came to an end. Still wanting to write but knowing most coffee shops would be closing soon, I headed for the 24/7 luxury of Perkin's for coffee and spontaneous pie. (It's the same thing as regular pie. The spontaneity comes from realizing pie is going to meet you at your unplanned destination and be all delicious in its a-la-mode-y goodness.)

The waiter who greeted me spotted my laptop bag and sat me near a power outlet in a quiet side room likely reserved for overflow during peak hours. It was the best place to be: quiet, comfortable, and near the restroom. #thingsthatmakemesound80

I happily browsed online while eating breakfast for dinner. Around 10 p.m, I finally got down to work. I contacted UNITE, a GLBT publication I wrote for last year to see if they had any article assignments they could toss my way. I also applied for a writing position with The Body Is Not An Apology, a website that publishes writing related to unapologetic self-love and body empowerment. They too published one of my essays last year. The third and most important task I completed was writing a letter to a Very Important Person about a Big Deal writing job. (I'm purposely being cryptic. I'm taking a big leap and want to put good energy behind the intent, but I also don't want to jinx it.) As you might expect, the result of getting all those things done was a tremendous rush of accomplishment-related joy. Okay, so the pot of coffee I drank also helped with my wide-eyed, swirly-brain feeling.

A little after 1:00 a.m., I finally packed up and headed home. The nearly full moon stuck with me during the drive. I sang at the top of my lungs and just enjoyed the rush. I keep getting the feeling that this rough patch (the worry, the fear, the lack of money, etc.) is coming to an end. Right now, I don't care if that's a reality or just wishful thinking. It feels positive and that's the push I need.

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