hot and quiet
2005-06-09 - 10:08 p.m.

It's somewhat stifling in the office. I just cajoled Kirk into fighting with the storms on two of the windows, hoping to catch some small semblance of breeze, if there is such a thing out there to be caught, but mostly, I am sitting behind the unnatural glare of the computer, sweating and drifting.

I finished my typing a few moments ago, the last tape mercifully containing only one letter. Why, Laura, why do you have to talk so fast you're out of breath at the end of your sentence? It doesn't make things easier on either of us. Tonight, though, you dictated only eight of those breathless sentences, so I'll keep my complaining to a minimum.

My mother is downstairs, gathering her belongings to head Up Country for the weekend, planning to leave work early tomorrow afternoon to attend the Boston Gay Men's Chorus performance with my cousins tomorrow night before spending the rest of the weekend lounging at the lake. I am jealous. Instead, I will be here, where there is no lake, no cool off-the-water breeze, no raucous card game on Saturday night. Instead, I will attend a final swimming lesson, work in my yard, print envelopes, fold letters, and sweat.

Kirk is reclined on the bed, muttering about box fans and air conditioners. He forgets in these early bedtime moments that by 3:00 a.m. he will have pulled the fleece blanket up from the end of the bed in response to the overhead fan's breeze.

I could go down and join my mom for our customary before-bed cup of tea, take a few minutes to check in with her before she's gone for three days. I could head to the bedroom and, armed with my new issue of Martha, join my husband in his HGTV DIY TLC channel flip through home improvement. I would be welcomed quite happily in either place. Both are cooler than this spot, surely.

And yet, it's here I sit. These are the first alone moments I've had all day. No baby climbing on me, pointing around the house and saying "dadat?" No tapes staring accusingly from the "to be done" basket. No telephones or errands or cleanup here. Not right now. Just me and the unnatural light of the computer and the still, hot air.

I'm rather enjoying myself.


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