blissed out

I am high, drunk, spaced-out on empty expanses of time unburdened by responsibility. "I don't have to do anything," I gushed to my husband this morning. "I can do whatever I want."

"Could you clean the chinchilla cage, then?" he said.

I probably should clean the chinchilla cage. In fact, my to-do list takes up almost a full page in my scratchbook. But none of it's pressing, nothing's a burden, all of it can wait as long as I feel like. (Except the law review writing competition, of course, but that doesn't even start until Friday anyway.) I could clean the chinchilla cage, take down the trash, do the laundry, clean out my inbox and book some more travel plans and organize all the bank statements...or I could put it all off with impunity.

Freedom is juicy like a plum.

I went to the gym this morning, and round about 300 calories when I felt myself getting tired, I realized with a grin that I didn't have to push myself. No more how-much-can-you-stand-it endurance testing; I now know exactly how much I can stand. I stepped off the elliptical trainer and practically skipped back out to my car. Ah, the load off! The load off!

There is nothing I have to do now, but so much I can do. The gym advertised a kickboxing class, and I thought: I can take kickboxing! There is so much I can take! Kickboxing, aikido, tai chi, hatha Yoga. Cello lessons again. Voice lessons again. Latin, Japanese, Arabic. Dressage riding. Poetry seminars. Crim Pro or Copyright summer courses, if I feel like it. Anything, if I feel like it.

When did my life become such a treasure? Suddenly it's summer, and California is beautiful: not just Mendocino, but even the normally-dingy part where I live. The sun is brilliant, the weather is clear and warming up, and I have time, to do errands and drink pearl tea and go shopping. I need something springy and dressy anyway, for the bat mitzvah in DC I'll be attending a week from Saturday. I can drift around our terrific local open-air mall, wander into Bloomingdale's or Ann Taylor or Talbots, and just gaze at what they're offering this season. No pressure, no rush. No commitments. Well, one: I promised my car that I'd get her washed today. She hasn't had a bath since going offroading in Mendocino in March, and she's earned one.

I owe debts of gratitude to so many of my steadfast chattels that could easily have sputtered, died, and screwed me over, but didn't. My car reliably trundled me to the train station such that I never missed my train, and on more than one occasion took me all the way to The City, bless her. The appliances in my apartment kindly remained fully functional throughout the semester. But the MVP has got to be my venerable old Sony laptop, which survived floppy drive issues, a burnt-out pixel that has turned permanently blue, and interminable kicking-about in my pullman bag as my indispensable (yes, 19(b) indispensable) sidekick through two of the nastiest semesters any inanimate object (or person) should ever have to suffer. I used to want to upgrade; now I'm wondering how much longer I can make this baby last.

Speaking of which, why am I still sitting here typing? I have time not to type. It's sunny and breezy and I'm getting a facial this afternoon. Salute!

thus spake /jca @ May 14, 2003 02:49 PM