Dear Red Sox, I’m having a good day. Please don’t screw it up. Love, Lauren
I have had a lovely morning. Blue skies. Mountain views. Sunshine. A cup of tea. Door open. It’s been that kind of morning. Walked the whole ten feet it takes me to get to the river, took the puppy for a quick paddle, laid in the grass for like an hour. Walked to the pool. Saw absolutely no one. I live like a rich person, I thought. You know. Without the possessions. Oh, and the money.
The view from my porch in Foscoe, NC.
It’s just been a great morning The kind of morning I’ll think about if I’m still here in December, with icy blasts of frozen torture forming snownados with ice darts aimed at my face. See, my office says I work too much. They say this like it’s a bad thing. Like it’s something I take upon myself like a trooper. (Where does that come from, anyway? Because the troopers I know are state troopers and they freak out when they get gum on their shoes. Seriously. I’ve seen it) Like it’s something not strapped to my back like a 2 by 4 seven days a week. Sometimes I feel like Marley with chains. But he could walk through walls. I have to get records the legal way through Pacer.
But, I digress. Take the morning off, Lauren. This act of kindness almost makes me forget that I cover a concert today and tonight (I’m not complaining, really) and a bike race at 7 a.m. Saturday. Oh, and a festival Sunday. But sleep is for the week! Right, Tito?
But again, I digress. There is no John Lackey today. Seriously. It’s too pretty outside. Look for yourself. He time warped or something. Bobby Jenks too. Totally gone. So, instead of asking these SERIOUS espn-esque questions, the *insert gruff straight-guy-compensating-for-collared-shirt-with-a-masculine-voice here* What are the Red Sox going to do with their rotation? and *insert the-character-guy here, with his slight-southern-accent (for personality, his agent says) and the pun-tastic elbow jabs* Are they going to ride the Gonzalez train all the way to October?
Just enjoy a baseball game.
And enjoy it for two, because I’m hanging out with the Doc. That’s right. The Doc Watson. Always a fun evening.
Off to work. I have a pretty great life, all things considering. If there were a city or, um, people. Or, um, sports or something. You know, within like… oh… thirty minutes of my house? I’d be suckin’ diesel. <- that’s Irish speak for swell.
And now that I’m taking serious steps to leave this place, I’m super trying to appreciate it. It’s easy to appreciate it in June. Not so much in January.
Please don’t let them lose. That would kind of destroy my Cat Stevens vibe this morning, k?
PS- Got a shout out in Peter’s blog today. If you haven’t checked it out, do so. It’s a good day-after-the-game perusal, full of intelligent observations. And he’s not nearly as neurotic as I am when the Red Sox lose, so there’s that.
And, just discovered another shout-out in Longworth72’s blog. It’s a neat Aussie blog that calls me “slightly mental” and “sometimes drunken.”
Slightly mental? Hmm.
Sometimes drunken? Hmm. Fair.