Thursday, July 8, 2010

Why can't I get comfortable?!


I finally figured out how to describe how I've been feeling the past few days. Yes, I'm too hot, sweaty, and suffering from heat headaches like whoa, but that doesn't get at the heart of it. I think the best way to describe how I'm feeling is to describe how I am NOT feeling...

It's late October, and you're at home after a hard day's work. You're in comfy clothes, maybe your boyfriend's tee shirt and loose athletic shorts. The front room of the first floor of the house smells like warm leather and a lavender scented candle. Your legs are smooth and it feels nice when your calves touch the backs of the thighs as you relax on the sofa with a good book, maybe a Carol Shields novel or that new book everyone's talking about "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." You open to your bookmark, and, not for the first time, are lost within its pages as you comfortably sit in your house.

That is what most people call being "absorbed." I like to call this being settled. I want to be a settler, someone who comes home and is instantly relaxed by their own space.

When it's 103 freaking degrees out and the air conditioning unit may or may not really be working--there's air coming from it, but is it cold?--it's nearly impossible to be a settler.

After going through a mini freak out this afternoon when I failed to complete a house project and didn't get to finishing the other house project I started yesterday, I jumped into a cold shower...a much needed shower due to the brick dust stuck in my hair. I took a cold shower for a good five minutes. That's a long shower, when it's a cold one. Before hopping into that shower, I turned on the AC unit in the master bedroom. Dripping, I reentered the cooler room, put on underwear and then... that's it.

I finally began to feel better. Clothes off, AC on, bed made, chocolate-almond Hershey's bar ready to eat... and then the fear factor began.

I have an abnormal fear of strangers coming into my house. I'm not sure where this fear came from. This has never happened to me (knock on wood), and I grew up in a very safe neighborhood. Although now I live in Killadelphia, the fear began way before coming here.

The point is, I had to quickly put on clothes and leave the door open a crack so I could hear if anyone was breaking in. What I am going to do if that actually happens, I don't know. But there's a machete, a baseball bat, and a police baton at the ready here next to me.

That seems strange, but now that I'm thinking about all this, the first settlers in America (or anywhere for that matter) probably had more dangerous and many weapons just in case the natives weren't friendly.

Peace,

LWoJ

P.S. As I wrote that last paragraph, I realize that so many things could be assumed from my choice of words. I didn't mean any of them really. It's just too hot and uncomfortable here. I don't wanna be a covered wagon traveler; I wanna be a settler.

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