A Fond Dream and Good Friends

I have this dream in which someone takes care of me. I don’t cook, I don’t wash up, I don’t do the shopping. I don’t make the big decisions, I don’t politic and strategize. No one looks to me for answers. I have no responsibility other than to rest and entertain myself. In this reality, I take a lot of hot baths and long showers. I don’t worry about money, I don’t worry about the impact of my decisions on the people I am responsible for, I don’t worry about taking care of anyone else because they are all properly handled and accounted for.

This dream, I suspect, is likely never to be realized, in part because I am so good at taking care of other people. But today, Kate let me visit it. Today my ability to sustain my competence crumbled somewhat, crushed under the weight of so much responsibility and people difficulties. Kate, being a good ethnographer and a better friend, recognized this and took me on a walk. She sat me down on a park bench in the sunset and told me that I didn’t have to hold it together all the time. Then she insisted that I come by for dinner after I went to the gym.

Dinner Courtesy of Kate So I did. After gyming it up this evening, I walked to Kate’s flat. Hazel entertained me while Kate was on an interview. We talked about capoeira and the complete lack of getting-laidness that is happening in our lives. I love hanging out with Hazel, in part because she is one of the most strikingly beautiful women I have met, so even when we’re not having nice chat and good fun I get to look at her, which is nice. Then, we had a delightful dinner–chile and lime fish (sole, maybe) over pasta, with roasted mushrooms, spinach, and green beans. We lingered over dinner, discussing the past and the future, and playing with the candle wax Hazel poured from the ruby red tea lights on a saucer on the table. The candles smelled delicious, strongly fruity (and maybe a little artificial). They reminded me of Starburst–but I resisted the temptation to nibble one to see if they tasted like they smelled. And they say I am never socially acceptable.

Then Kate gave me a lift home. Every time we go to her car I attempt to get in on the wrong side, which makes Kate laugh every time it happens. (Which is approximately once a week.)

I came home to find my erstwhile partner in crime and hair stylist heading out for the night, leaving my head sheep-dog shaggy once again. Guess that means today is a day for the pirate bandana. I took a stupidly long shower, and appreciated being able to visit a daydream at Kate’s, even if only for a little while.

A Fond Dream and Good Friends

2 thoughts on “A Fond Dream and Good Friends

  1. Jessie says:

    Choosing the right side of the car in Britain would be hard. When I was flight instructing (and in the right seat of an airplane for many more hours a day than the driver’s seat of a car) I kept trying to get in on the wrong side to drive myself home. It was ridiculous.

  2. rachelshadoan says:

    Hehehe. I am going to have such trouble with left and right when I get home. Already I have just given up on knowing which way to look when I cross the street. For a while I had it figured out, and then I lost it… Now I have to see a car in the street to know which way to look.

    I look forward to causing you problems with the driving home once again, in the fall, when we are flying frequently.

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