The Day Before Tomorrow

IMG_4168It’s almost a real spring morning. The northern tip of Central Park is wild and wooly. Over-grown and under-manicured. My punk dog romps through the meadow with her ball as a gaggle of canines and humans do what canines and humans do, sitting in the grace of a gentle, pre-caffeine sunshine in New York City, surrounded by joy and the lightness of being.

The way my dog throws herself into the grass and abandons her ornery ways, tickled, cooled, and comforted, makes me so happy.

Though we are standing on the precipice of spring, perfect days are hard to catch.

***

Now, I’m napping on my sofa. The dog sleeps, curled into my stomach. I can feel her short breaths juxtaposed with my long ones and the cotton comforter brushes my cheek. It’s a luxury to nap in the middle of the day, especially when I should be using my precious free time to write, to create, to do, but my over-used, aged, crumpling mass of dented cushion and bunched up blanket covers mind and its wanderings. I know there will be a time, hopefully many, many years from now, when my dog is no longer here. Her paw presses into the palm of my hand. These moments are precious.

I’ve written my resume. Spurred on by curiosity and fantasy and a job that sounds intriguing. In my imagination, it comes with the potential of noble overtures and innovative creativity. In reality, it’s a glorified advertising position. And ultimately, the screen with my name and resume on it has as much of a chance of being read as a New York City rat being plucked from obscurity to star in the next remake of Willard. But still, it’s fun to dream.

I’ve only applied to one other job in the last couple of years. That was a month ago, when I saw the listing for a reality television show. I sent them an email, inviting them to consider me. It was to take place off the grid, in the prairies and hills the under-developed midwest. It’s called Pioneer Family. They advertised for single people as well as families, but, they lied. They want children addicted to video games and husbands addicted to porn. They don’t want a cheese-making, ordained, haircutting, travel and dating blogging single woman caught up in the swirl of her life-long mid-life crisis, who laughs more than she cries.

I should have sent them a picture of my dog.

I haven’t written a resume in fifteen years, maybe longer. I haven’t had to. I’ve moved from job to job within my industry with surprising ease. I don’t know if I want to change that. Or if I can change it. I’m murky on where destiny ends and free-will begins. Or if either even exists.

But, it’s given me opportunity to pause and stand in front of the warped mirror of my life as I see it, and wonder if freedom of movement trumps freedom of expression. If I’d gladly give up the ease of my life to tell my stories on an international, easy-bake platform.

Would I rather move through the world whispering my work like a ghost, or tear through others’ consciousness like a glamour who wants to enchant, seduce, hypnotize, and mesmerize everyone she meets.

I don’t think it’s my choice to make, honestly. Life unfolds at its own pace and ever-present change babbles with promises it cannot keep while working its magic while no one’s looking, right here, in plain sight.

IMG_4562

***

And now, It’s a rainy day, and the dog is sitting by my chair, chewing her bone. I’m four days late with writing this blog and sending it out into the world. But the deadline is of my own making. I doubt anyone, besides me, is concerned.

One of my windows is broken and won’t stay open. City birds are engaged in a heated conversation. I’ve finished my first cup of coffee and am considering a second. And it looks like the sun might come out. Maybe. For a minute.

Though nowhere near silent, things are quiet. Somehow, the city air smells sweet, and I’m imagining what it would it be like to know that this day, the day before tomorrow is the last day of my old life. What if I knew that tomorrow, everything would be different. I’m not talking about a switch that I’ve been lumbering towards, nor a traumatic change I’ve been rocketed into, but a shift into another life. Neither good nor bad. Nothing to fear. An easy slide – the sweet moment before I dive into something I never considered, haven’t prepared for, and trust implicitly. No time to pack my bags, but I know there’ll be a toothbrush for me on the other side.

I’ve typed a version of my story through the nerve-endings of my finger-tips and squeezed it through the invisible wires in our atmosphere to the great proof-reader in the sky. Now it’s her turn.

One thing I know. I’m still a beginner on this sleepy, almost spring morning.

We are all beginners. All of us. Every single day.

IMG_5417

2 thoughts on “The Day Before Tomorrow

  1. This flowed beautifully! I love the transition from change to change and how different but alike the contemplations are. You should have a book – not that woman on Amazon. Perhaps yours should be a movie instead. (smiling at you)

    • You are too kind… but I’ll take it! Thanks again for reading. Will be thinking of you when I’m doing push-ups while telling bad jokes on Tuesday. Or perhaps when I’m pulling mozzarella in an hour or so… or both.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s