I took the stars from my eyes and then I made a map
My feet felt like those of a duck. Flat. Loud. Giant. The fact that I was bounding down a hill, bounding because I couldn’t help my legs from flailing beneath me, trash bag in hand punctuated the slapping sound of $7 sneakers on asphalt. Behind me, a chuckle tumbled into my ears. “Are you laughing at me?” I asked, smiling.
“You look ridiculous!” Eli, carrying his own bag of recycling, seemed more composed, more capable of maneuvering down an enormous hill. At least he didn’t appear to be bouncing.
“I can’t help it! I’m bounding because if I stop, I will fall,” I yelled back, still navigating by letting my feet lead haphazardly.
If I stop, I will fall. If I stop, I will fall. If I stop, I will fall. Now more than ever it feels so true. If September crawled to a close, October sprinted away. How is it that I should find myself at November? But pausing to consider anything these days seems so impossible. Most of my decisions as of late have not been decisions, but merely the result of a fly by the seat of my pants mentality.
In the case of last Friday, it meant I was too hung over to go to work after a convivial evening that began with an acquaintance not seen since 13 years ago. After a year of avoiding any number of invitation to get together, I gave in, threw myself into the idea of something new. Somehow the night ended without either of us learning much of anything about the other due to some pretty abrasive army men who enjoyed my figure, enjoyed his smile, and enjoyed, with us, two Irish car bombs, a vague number of beers, and some Jameson. Any hope of reconnecting with my old friend was dashed, and though I ate a brownie in his kitchen, though he comfortably gave a tour of his condo, I was still very much drunkenly wandering the hardwood floors of a stranger’s home. I felt oddly comfortable. I’d stumbled into happenstance and a realm of innocent trouble, a wink at limitlessness, and I could have burst into a cloud of confetti from all my eagerness to absorb every meaningful nothing.
Two days later I heaved my trash bag into the can. “Ready to go back up?” asked Eli.
I paused. “It was much more fun going down.”
“I thought you were scared of falling!”
“I am. But it’s still fun, right?”
“You look ridiculous!” Eli, carrying his own bag of recycling, seemed more composed, more capable of maneuvering down an enormous hill. At least he didn’t appear to be bouncing.
“I can’t help it! I’m bounding because if I stop, I will fall,” I yelled back, still navigating by letting my feet lead haphazardly.
If I stop, I will fall. If I stop, I will fall. If I stop, I will fall. Now more than ever it feels so true. If September crawled to a close, October sprinted away. How is it that I should find myself at November? But pausing to consider anything these days seems so impossible. Most of my decisions as of late have not been decisions, but merely the result of a fly by the seat of my pants mentality.
In the case of last Friday, it meant I was too hung over to go to work after a convivial evening that began with an acquaintance not seen since 13 years ago. After a year of avoiding any number of invitation to get together, I gave in, threw myself into the idea of something new. Somehow the night ended without either of us learning much of anything about the other due to some pretty abrasive army men who enjoyed my figure, enjoyed his smile, and enjoyed, with us, two Irish car bombs, a vague number of beers, and some Jameson. Any hope of reconnecting with my old friend was dashed, and though I ate a brownie in his kitchen, though he comfortably gave a tour of his condo, I was still very much drunkenly wandering the hardwood floors of a stranger’s home. I felt oddly comfortable. I’d stumbled into happenstance and a realm of innocent trouble, a wink at limitlessness, and I could have burst into a cloud of confetti from all my eagerness to absorb every meaningful nothing.
Two days later I heaved my trash bag into the can. “Ready to go back up?” asked Eli.
I paused. “It was much more fun going down.”
“I thought you were scared of falling!”
“I am. But it’s still fun, right?”