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Earlier tonight, I enjoyed one of those moments where everything in the universe seemed to be converging to make one simply perfect moment. more…

The weather today was sort of cold and rainy. For my money, there is no better weather for a relaxing day with no responsibilities and nothing to do than a grey and rainy, overcast day. That was today through and through. I spent most of the day just lounging around listening to music and reading a book for this new discussion group I found. I haven’t been to a meeting yet, so I’m still filled with the giddy hope that I’ll find in this group the kinds of intelligent, impassioned discussions I didn’t find in the last 2 groups I tried.

I had a late breakfast, so I skipped lunch, and by 4:30, I was starting to feel a little hungry. I had sort of pseudo-plans to drive up into the city to meet some people for a late dessert kind of thing, so I figured that an early dinner may be just the thing. Now, I eat out like 2 or 3 times a day. I never eat in, so I’m always sort of stuck for where to go. Tonight, since I was feeling so hungry, I decided on Claim Jumpers. That’s this sort of theme restaurant where you’re supposed to feel like you’re in this old-west mining town or something. Normally, I don’t really go in for that theme kind of nonsense, but their food is reasonably good (and excessive which I was really looking for).

I got there, and the host suggests I eat in their bar area. I’m always eating alone, and a lot of times restaurants will suggest the bar to me. I’m never sure if they’re suggesting it because they think a single diner would be uncomfortable at a table (I never am), or they are saving their tables for larger parties. Generally, the suggestion really annoys me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to eat wherever, if the place is crowded, and it means sitting down and getting served faster. But, I was early enough, that I could see they had empty tables as far as the eye could see.

Still, I don’t care enough to make a thing out of it, so they suggest the bar, and I’m like yeah, OK. I guess. What I didn’t realize is that the bar in this place is actually better than their main dining area. I was sitting in there across from this huge stone fireplace with a nice fire going, and I can see the grey sky out the windows, and there are no people around anywhere, and for this one perfect moment I gave in to all that themey cornball stuff, and I felt like I was in this mountain resort somewhere. Everything just came together perfectly, and I was exactly where I wanted to be, doing exactly what I wanted to be doing.

I find that those moments are carved out of soap bubbles though. Before long, I realize that the waitress isn’t even close to being as attentive as I’d like, and people begin to trickle in ruining my dreamy feeling of isolation and just generally competing for little slivers of my consciousness. And, I realize that while the fire looks good, there’s actually a major draft, and I’m uncomfortably cold.

Maybe if I could be more zen about it, I could preserve those moments just a little longer. Back when I first bought and moved into my home, I found myself at the center for this perfectly, happy and contented cloud for like 2 weeks. I was actually unsure of how to process such an extended moment like that. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.