“My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe. To him, all good things–trout as well as eternal salvation–come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.”
–A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean
Today I think I discovered the meaning of life.
I was sick earlier in the week. I lost Monday and Tuesday entirely to a fever, and then I muddled through the rest of the week. Friday I felt as well as I had since before this all began, but I also lost my voice for no reason I could discern. So I went to work, croaking and squeaking. Every time I talked, whoever was nearby would all stare at me, then there would be a pause, then someone would say “I know what she said!” and repeat it for the rest of the group.
You know, when they weren’t laughing at me, which also happened.
I think this is why I decided it was aok to start eating ice cream every day. That and the amazing 90 degree weather we are suddenly having. Friday night, I had homemade vanilla ice cream with fresh strawberries at Jason and Amy’s house, which was delicious, though I did have to endure Jason periodically covering his face in an ineffective attempt to hide his laughter when I tried to talk. He’d say, “Sorry! Sorry! You just sound so cute!”
Which would make me shout, “I do not sound cute!”
Which would come out as a squeak and did not help matters.
Yesterday, my voice was still not right, and I was weary. I finally took a shower so I could drive out to Partyka’s to pick up strawberries and cherries–because even when I’m ill I have priorities–and while I was there, I got a chocolate milkshake, because you basically have to.
Today, I was still tired but also restless. I didn’t particularly want to deal with my messy apartment, and the sun and heat were calling to me, so I drove out and hiked at Chimney Bluffs. That was nice. It’s beautiful there, and I didn’t have to talk to anyone. I wrote an essay in my head while I was hiking and climbing around that I suppose will take me weeks or months to get right on paper, but I started work on it after I discovered the meaning of life, which I found on the way home when I stopped by Hedonist. I used to think that Hedonist’s Salted Caramel ice cream was the best ice cream I was ever going to have in my life, but that was before I had their Malted Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream today, which they should rename something like Everything You Were Ever Looking For. Once I had it, I took my waffle cone full of the reason for being, sat on a bench in the shade, and concentrated on eating. A spectacularly drunk woman ambled by and said, “That looks good!”
“It is!” I said.
“I know it is!” she said, and then she did a little fist pump.
And I did one back.
I came home, and I’ve been writing in an attempt to capture that essay and reading my Game of Thrones book, entirely ignoring the dirty laundry and my dirty apartment, which I suppose I’ll be regretting when I have to pack for ALA Tuesday night, but that’s two whole days away.
Like I said, I have priorities.